The Word Revenge
by AeonXBorealis
Summary: This is a re-write of One Word: REVENGE. Al meets up with the mysterious Dr. Renard who wants his help to gain revenge on Chris; he has a lot of strange, supernatural allies. Along the way, Al's in the fifth TD season and meets up with Heather again.
1. Prologue Part 1: Dr Renard

Prologue: Dr. Theodore Renard

Author's Note: For the record, this is pretty much the beginning of a re-write for One Word:REVENGE. I read one of the reviews on Ch. 9 and it got me thinking. There's a lot of errors and things about the original that I felt need fixing or clarifying or whatever. Overall, I just felt like the best way for this crazy story to reach its full potential was if I took another crack at writing it. So...here's the first part of the prologue. I'm just sorry I didn't get this done and posted sooner...Sorry for so much delay and ENJOY!

**2007-Wawanaka-Set of Total Drama Island**

He stood at over six feet tall, easily taller than Chris by several inches, broader and more muscular, too. He had silvery gray eyes and long, dark red hair that he had pulled back into a ponytail. Two of the female interns were looking at him, then at each other as they giggled and smiled. It was obvious that he was handsome; cameras would eat him up faster than a McDonald's burger.

As he watched the man walk closer to him, Chris could feel a huge lump forming in his throat, feel himself gritting his teeth. Total Drama Island was one of his biggest breaks in show business so far, the thing he'd probably be noticed for. If he was successful with TDI, he'd become a household name and, hopefully, get even bigger better gigs as a host for other, possibly more popular shows. And now here comes Mr. Perfect, a man that could rival Chris in looks. A man this handsome could only be one thing: Chris' _co-host_. There was a possibility that he could even overshadow Chris, take his chance...

_No._ Chris wouldn't let him do that.

Lost in his thoughts, Chris jumped back a few feet when the redhead materialized out of nowhere next to him, a warm, polite smile on his face.

"Hello," the man said in a tone as friendly as his face. "I'm Theodore Renard, the guy sent by the executives to determine how ethical the challenges are for Total Drama Island."

"I'm Chris McClean," Chris replied, showing off his pearly whites in a smile he hoped would blind Theodore. Already, Chris was taking an instant dislike to him. Apparently, the executive producers of Total Drama Island were already so suspicious of him that they had to send a _babysitter_. A babysitter with a viable excuse for being around, but a_ babysitter _no less...

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. McClean. Now, I'm not the type of man who likes to beat around the bush, so how about we get this over and done with, hmm?" Theodore smiled, holding up a blue fountain pen and a clipboard.

"Okay." Chris motioned at one of the giggling interns. She raced over, her eyes wide and shining while her friend stayed where she was, arms folded and glaring.

"You're _hot_," she whispered to Theodore, batting her eyelashes.

In reply, Theodore just laughed as he clicked his pen. "I'm much too old for you," he said.

"You don't look-"

Before she could say anything else, Chris silenced her with a wave of his hand. Clenching his fists, he led the way towards the camp ground, Theodore and the intern in tow. They walked past the pathetic looking wooden cabins into the woods up ahead. All the while, Theodore tried to start a conversation with Chris, but Chris blatantly ignored him, or deflected his attempts with grunts or noncommittal responses.

Soon enough, they stood at the foot of the first challenge. Silently, Chris smirked to himself as he looked at his handiwork, relishing in his absolute genius. This was one of the few challenges that he'd constructed and set up himself. Incredibly, the intern had stopped her mindless birdlike chatter and even Theodore was silent. Inhaling a breath, Chris waited as they took it all in. Yes, they were speechless; there was no denying how brilliant-

"You can't pitch this challenge to the producers," Theodore cried, outrage in his voice.

The moment had been shattered like a pane of glass. Befuddled, Chris turned and looked at Theodore; Theodore's brows were furrowed and he was frowning, scribbling rapid notes on his clipboard. Once he was done, he clicked his pen and shot a disbelieving look at Chris.

"Who...who came up with this particular challenge?" Theodore asked.

"Me," Chris replied through gritted teeth. "Is there a problem?"

"Yes, there most certainly is." Theodore narrowed his eyes and his nostrils twitched. "There's going to be _children _participating in this show, Mr. McClean. They could die facing something like this. I don't care if it would garner in ratings from Martians all the way on Mars, I won't condone this! Besides, they're competing for ten thousand dollars, not in a fight-to-the-death Roman coliseum..."

Chris raised an eyebrow, feeling himself boiling with rage. It only made him feel that much angrier when he noticed the intern glaring at him and shaking her head; she was only taking Theodore's side because she thought he was 'hot.' But then again, she _was_ just a fickle teenage girl: Up until the moment Theodore had arrived, she'd been mooning over Chris...

"This is my best idea!" Chris yelled at Theodore. "All of the other challenges freaking _suck _compared to this one! Besides, all of the contestants will be signing liability waivers..."

"You're absolutely insane," Theodore chided, clicking his tongue. "I promise you, the more you fight to keep this challenge, the more I'm inclined to call the producers and ask them to _fire_ you."

"_You_ can't get _me_ fired!" Chris howled.

"I can and I will," Theodore replied, eyes glinting like steel. "I have more pull than you, Mr. McClean-"

"_I OWN A YACHT!_" Chris screamed at Theodore; he was so furious, he was seeing red like a bull. His response only led to Theodore reaching into his jeans pocket and pulling out a cell phone. That's when the red flags went up and Chris' eyes widened. In an act of desperation, he reached out and grabbed Theodore's wrist, looking right into his eyes.

There was no mercy in those liquid metal eyes; Theodore believed that he was simply doing his job. Heart pounding in his chest and ears, Chris took a deep breath and pulled away, absentmindedly wiping at his shirt and blowing out a long puff of breath.

When he was calm again, he looked up at Theodore and Theodore put his cell phone in his pocket.

"Your reaction showed that you care about this quite a bit," he said, spreading his hands. "Show me how this challenge works. Show me that it's safe and that a person wouldn't die in trying to complete it."

_Say please..._Chris thought bitterly. Then he snapped his fingers and pointed at the intern. "You."Her eyes widened momentarily and Chris smirked. "Get me a coffee."

Shaking, she turned and scurried away through the trees and underbrush. Once she was gone, Theodore raised his eyebrows at Chris. "For a second I thought you were going to make _her_ do this challenge," he said, slightly disconcerted.

That was when a tall and blond teen boy lumbered towards Chris and Theodore, iPod headphones dripping out his ears. He was noisily chewing on a piece of gum and had a large green plastic crate under one of his arms. When he saw Chris and Theodore, he pulled his headphones out and gave a lazy wave of his hand. "'Sup?" he asked, nodding at each of them in turn.

This was just too perfect; Chris had just been about to call Chef to go retrieve this particular intern. He smirked, but stopped as soon as a pungent, disgusting aroma attacked his nostrils. The plastic crate was full of huge, nasty-smelling slabs of meat. As Chris reached up to cover his nose, Theodore was doing exactly the same thing.

"What...what's in that crate?" Theodore cried, tears collecting at the edges of his eyes because of how intense the smell was.

The teen boy shrugged and sniffed. "Meat. For the lions," he replied. "I was born without a sense of smell. I guess that makes me lucky."

"Yeah..." Chris narrowed his eyes. "_You're_ going to be demonstrating this challenge for Mr. Renard right here."

The boy's eyes widened as did Theodore's. "Uh...no, dude. No effing way," the boy protested, shaking his messy mop of hair.

"I'd have to agree," Theodore chimed in.

"Do it or you're _fired_!" Chris barked. He'd never really liked this particular intern in the first place; he was lazy, never listened to instructions, spent most of his time lying around and listening to his stupid iPod. Apparently, losing his internship, even if it had no pay, was enough to make the boy nod and walk towards the challenge. Theodore watched despondently, his fingers twitching.

With shaking hands, the teen boy walked towards a huge man-made crevasse in the ground that had a fifty foot drop. At the bottom of the crevasse were a bunch of ferocious lions, eyes glittering with hunger, long white teeth bared. A long wooden plank bridge across the expanse of the crevasse was the only way to get to the other side. As soon as he placed one foot on the wooden plank bridge, it shook, implying that it wouldn't be able to bear his weight. Squeaking and whimpering like a mouse, the boy took another step and another, sweat dripping down his acne-ridden face. As soon as he was completely on the bridge, the boy made the mistake of looking down and peed his pants.

At the pace he was progressing, Chris was sure that the intern would make it across if he kept his wits about him. Humming under his breath, Chris cast a look towards the trees and willed the other intern to hurry up and get back here with his frigging coffee; his nerves were jarred and the way the veins on Theodore's neck were popping out was doing nothing to help.

A few more seconds passed and Theodore let out a strangled breath. "This is madness!" he cried in a loud whisper.

Chris' eyes widened as he watched Theodore rush towards the bridge in several long, wide strides, a determined look on his face. Without hesitation, when Theodore reached the teen boy, he nabbed him by the wrist and gently tugged him back in the direction of the grassy edge, away from the crevasse.

"You don't have to do this," Theodore insisted.

"Yeah, I do," the boy insisted, taking another tentative step.

"An unpaid internship isn't worth risking your life for!" Theodore begged him, tugging on his wrist again.

In reply, the boy yanked his wrist away and turned away from Theodore. He stood straighter and taller, taking several more confident steps onto the bridge. Helplessly, Theodore stepped off of the bridge and watched as the boy continued walking, grinding his teeth as he fought his own indecision. Surprisingly, the boy made it as far as the middle. Folding his arms, Chris shot a smug look at Theodore, but Theodore was too busy looking at the teen intern and worrying about his welfare.

By now, the teen boy was getting overconfident. He shucked away his fear and took off at a valiant gallop, ignoring the lions growling and roaring so far below him and the creaking and groaning of the bridge. Just one misstep, then the bridge swayed and the boy tripped, fell. By some kind of miracle, he managed to grab the edge of the wooden plank bridge and hold himself there, just barely, by his fingertips. Grunting, he tried to pull himself back up, but that made him slip a couple of millimeters...

Chris gritted his teeth and started clenching and un-clenching his fists, trying to figure out what to do.

While he contemplated his next move, Theodore didn't think twice as he ran out onto the bridge, making it jump up and down sporadically under his weight, right towards where the boy was clinging on for his life. Frightened, the boy scrabbled to keep his perch and managed to scramble up onto the board, hugging it with his arms and legs.

Frowning and breathing hard, Theodore reached down and grabbed the boy's arms, prying him up off of the bridge and back up onto his feet. He grunted with the effort, but the harder he tried, the more the bridge started creaking and straining.

The wood plank bridge was about to snap; Theodore was too busy to notice that the weight of him _and _the intern boy was too much. Feeling another lump form in his throat, Chris finally launched himself into action. Horror struck, Chris reached out pitifully at the wood plank bridge and gripped it, tight, trying to keep it from skittering into the depths of the crevasse. His knuckles were white with the effort and he was looking at the whorls in the wood when the sound of splintering wood filled the air.

At the last second, Chris looked up.

The bridge audibly snapped underneath Theodore and the teenage boy. They both fell down, down, down, screaming at the top of their lungs, terrible, bloodcurdling screams. The last that Chris saw of either one was the flash of Theodore's red hair and the teen boy's blue iPod.

It was overkill to have lions at the bottom now, Chris realized; nobody could survive the fall that the intern and Theodore had just taken.

Hurriedly, Chris reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, pounding the buttons with shaking fingers, even though he knew it was no good now.

"Chef..." Chris murmured into the phone, scared. "We have a major problem..."

The world swayed and zipped around Theodore, like a crazed whirligig. Falling 9.5 meters per second, every part of him felt like it was going to ripped out and up out of his body. Next to him, the intern looked at him with wide, deer-in-headlights eyes. The expression on his face mirrored how obviously he wanted to live to see tomorrow; Theodore shared the same sentiment.

Silently, he squeezed his eyes shut and murmured a prayer in his mind, begging any kind of divine entity to intervene and rescue them. Mere seconds later, he heard the intern squeaking in disbelief. When he opened his eyes, he found that the two of them were floating downwards, light and airy like feathers. Smiling to himself, he silently thanked the entity that had sent the winds that were buoying them safely and steadily to the ground. His relief was short lived: There was still the matter of the lions below.

Once again, Theodore was praying, but he was mentally preparing himself for a battle he knew he'd lose. Frowning, he reached out and pulled the intern by the arm.

"Stay behind me," he instructed and the intern replied with a curt nod.

Slowly, the winds started to dissolve and lessen; Theodore clenched his fists and prepared for the landing. His brown loafers touched soft brown dirt and right away, they were surrounded by three howling lions. The biggest lion pawed the ground and shot warning looks at the others, making them back up as he sauntered up towards Theodore and the intern, licking his lips. Cautiously, Theodore stepped forward, arms spread and fingers splayed.

With the lion only a foot away, he narrowed his eyes and looked directly into the alpha lion's liquid green eyes. The moments ticked by; the intern was biting down on his lip. Hard. Then he peed his pants again. All the while, Theodore waited as the lion hunkered down and hunkered back, getting ready to launch itself like a spring. Before it could strike, Theodore launched himself into the air and spun once, twice in a somersault, baring down on the lion's head with a deftly planted kick.

He wrestled the lion until he held its head in a headlock and flopped it onto its back in a pin. With all of his might, Theodore struggled to keep the lion in the pin; eventually, the lion crept back out and then threw Theodore to the ground like a rag doll. Mind rushing, Theodore looked up at the pale picture book blue sky overhead as the alpha lion looked down into his face. The other lions were looking at him, too. All of them hungry and waiting.

"BOY!" Theodore screamed. "RUN!"

As Theodore tried to crawl back up onto his feet, the alpha lion placed a paw on his chest and pressed him onto the ground. Roughly. Theodore struggled and thrashed, launching kicks at the lion with as much ferocity as he could manage. In his mind's eye he could see the intern running away and with every beat of his adrenaline fueled heart, he hoped that was what was happening...

Suddenly, his hopeful vision was crushed when he saw the intern peering over the burnt orange mane of the lion. A crazed look crossed the young boy's face as he buried his fingers in the lion's mane and pulled and yanked, making the lion roar in pain. Taking his chance, Theodore leaped back onto his feet and launched a roundhouse kick at the alpha lion's eye. As it pawed piteously at its eye, Theodore turned towards the intern.

"RUN!" Theodore howled at him again.

"No!" the boy replied, frowning determinedly. "We're getting out of here together, Renard!"

Before he could argue with the boy anymore, Theodore heard a loud roar behind him. Then he was on his back and was pinned by yet another lion. Beyond the faces framed by fur and teeth, Theodore could hear the intern yowling and calling out his name. Desperately, Theodore fought off the lions with all of his strength. Somehow, he was able to fight through the lions, but he was too late to do anything: the teen boy was screaming and the alpha lion was rearing his head back and lunging in, over and over with a vicious appetite.

Stripes of red blood scattered across the air and tears sprung on the edges of Theodore's eyes. He reached out and could hear his heart pounding in his ears like the deep thrum of a Congo drum as he was pushed back to the ground. Closing his eyes, Theodore screamed as he felt sharp teeth bite down into him, followed by several more. It happened over and over again, but Theodore never opened his eyes and he just stopped fighting completely.

Behind his eyelids all he could see was that he'd failed

_...He'd failed miserably..._

**4 Years Later**

**November 2011-New York City-Presbyterian Hospital-ER Waiting Room**

Mrs. Burromuerto stood in the hallway, her hands clasped over her heart as she wept, her shoulders shrugging as her face contorted in her misery. Her husband, a tall man standing at over six feet, paced impatiently across the hall, his arms folded behind his back. Next to Mrs. Burromuerto her mother-in-law, Esperanza, tried desperately to calm her down, offering her fluffy white tissues and patting her knee.

Anxiously, Mrs. Burromuerto looked up at the two double doors towards the hospital's emergency room, helplessly wishing that a doctor or nurse or _somebody _would walk through and tell her whether or not her precious baby boy was going to be okay. She looked up with wide, tear rimmed eyes for a few more seconds before turning her face away again and letting her long brown hair fall into her face.

"He'll be okay, Leandra!" Esperanza tried to console her. "He'll be okay..."

Leandra looked up at Esperanza and pushed her hair out of her face. Then she puckered her lips and shook her head, trembling. "I shouldn't have trusted the life of my precious little boy to Dr. Renard..." she said, her voice full of regret. "I'd rather have him alive and a robot than dead and mangled. I watched that doctor take Alejandro out of his robot shell. That was the only thing sustaining his life! The moment he was taken out of it..."

Hands shaking, Leandra squeaked and Esperanza leaned in, dabbing at the lines of dark black mascara running down her face with a tissue. As Leandra squawked and shook with the threat of more tears, another figure lumbered onto the scene carrying a tray filled with diet Sprite, frown lines creasing his forehead. As soon as she saw her eldest son Carlos, Leandra leaped to her feet and raced over to him, wrapping her arms around him and digging her fingers through his curly brown hair; as a result, he dropped the tray to the floor and the cans went rolling with hollow thuds.

"You and Jose are..." The rest of her words were lost in an incoherent burble as she buried her head in Carlos' soccer jersey. Not sure how to react, he reached up and pushed his mom away gently, grabbing her shoulders and wrinkling his brows.

"...what?" he asked.

Audibly, Leandra took a deep breath and looked up at Carlos. "Alejandro's dead!"

As Carlos started to compute what she'd just said, Esperanza ran over and gently pushed Leandra away. She looked up at him earnestly with her chocolate brown eyes and shook her head. "We haven't even heard from the doctor yet," Esperanza explained. "Your mother's overreacting..."

"_Overreacting?_" Leandra squawked, tearing away from Esperanza, her eyes wide in disbelief. "Dr. Renard is a nutcase, Esperanza! _A nutcase!" _

Shaking her head, Leandra turned on her heel and started marching towards the double doors. Her husband let her pass and he, Carlos, and Esperanza watched her as she stomped through the doors and into the hallway beyond. For a few seconds afterward, Carlos stared at the door a few more tentative seconds before turning towards his dad and Esperanza.

"I don't trust Dr. Renard, either," he said, his dark eyes shining earnestly. "I'm following Mama."

His dad nodded in silent agreement and looked at Esperanza. "Are you coming, Mom?"

Esperanza gave a casual shrug in response. Led by Carlos, the three of them followed after Leandra.

"_You can get up now..." _said a calm voice tinged with a slight Brooklyn accent.

Groggy, it was a massive effort for Alejandro to open his eyes, but he managed to. The very first thing he saw was a stark white ceiling, crisscrossed with a bizarre series of curls and squiggles. Blinking several times, he tried to remember where he was and why he was there. It came to him after a full minute of intense concentration: _I'm in Dr. Renard's office...This must be the end of that surgery Dr. Renard was talking about. Maybe...just maybe...I don't need that robotic shell anymore..._

Following the train of his thought, shock and surprise filled Alejandro when he was able to sit up all the way. He saw a tiny window set into the wall looking out on the tall, mirror ball skyscrapers of NYC which poked at the sky and shimmered like diamonds. Outside, the sky was pale blue and calm, and he guessed that the sun was probably in the middle of the sky by now. So, it was probably around noon. Beyond the window, the rest of the room was so white and sterile it hurt Alejandro's eyes. He squinted and ignored the pain, turning his eyes down towards the eggshell blue of the coverlet on his thin hospital pallet.

Then he tried to lift one of his hands.

It wouldn't budge.

He tried to move his arms and then his legs.

They wouldn't budge.

His heart started pounding in his chest and, warily, Alejandro started to look in the direction he thought his hands were-

His vision was suddenly filled with a bunch of motherboards and wires and circuits. Copper wires gleamed like stars and a few LED lights blinked blue, then purple, and other colors; a circus of cogs turned slowly around and around all throughout the set-up: he was looking at a clockwork robotic arm...

The realization hit him like the sharp blade of a knife; he couldn't help yelping and pulling his arm away. But it wouldn't budge...

The mass of wires and circuits and robotic parts reeled away from his face and Alejandro took a deep, startled breath when he realized that it hadn't been _his _arm that he'd been looking at. Confused, Alejandro followed the arm with his eyes all the way to its' owners face: Dr. Renard inhaled sharply and his eyes glowed as brightly as the skyscrapers outside of the window.

"No, Alejandro, you're not a cyborg," Dr. Renard said, killing the immediate fear that had been bubbling in Alejandro's mind.

Alejandro took a better look at Dr. Renard: He wasn't wearing a lab coat like he usually was. He was in a thin black latex shirt with one of the sleeves rolled back to reveal the machinery of his arm. There was a pulsating blue light under his shirt where his heart was located and some of the parts were leaking out of the collar of his shirt as well.

..._Dr. Renard was a cyborg._

As he sat there, Alejandro was having trouble taking all of it in. This had to be a crazy dream of some sort. After World Tour, Dr. Renard being a cyborg was just something Alejandro didn't want to believe or deal with. Taking a deep breath, he laid back down and just stared at Dr. Renard, stared at the revealed circuits and wires that were part of his body. The entire time he noticed that Renard was glaring at him, his eyebrows the sharpened points of pitch forks.

"For the record, I'm not at all offended by all of the _staring_," Renard said, somewhat bitterly. "I knew you'd have this reaction. Everyone does. That's why I have to wear long-sleeves all the time. It's convenient for me to live in New York, considering that's pretty much what you're wearing all year round anyway..."

"Sorry..." Alejandro said, surprised by the sincerity in his voice; he really could relate with Renard, though, considering he'd technically been a robot for the past three months. The experience had been anything but pleasant, from the deep, echoey way his voice sounded to the few choice encounters with Jose who always felt an urgent need to be a complete di-

"I'm just glad that you aren't consigned to the same fate as me..." Renard said, his expression softening. "When I heard that you'd been run over by lava, I knew I had to step in and do something. You're lucky that I've been working steadily to improve the technology that saved my life so diligently over the past few years." Renard smiled. "Actually..._you_ were my guinea pig, Alejandro. The fact that my machine was able to restore a lot of your basic bodily functions is nothing short of miraculous. As a matter of fact, I'm happy to report that in under a year, you'll be up and on your feet as strong, or maybe even stronger, than you were before..."

What Renard was saying made Alejandro's eyebrows shoot up. The technology he was talking about...No matter how technologically advanced society currently was, there was no technology advanced enough to do what he was talking about. Frowning, Alejandro bit back his overall curiosity and incredulity. He tried to keep from meeting Renard's eyes, but from the knowing look Renard wore on his angular face, Alejandro knew that Renard knew what he was thinking.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," Renard warned, raising a single finger and waggling it.

"Why haven't you used the same technology on yourself?" Alejandro asked. Ever since he'd first met Renard, there was something about the man that put him on edge and unnerved him. Renard looked like a benevolent and caring man, but looks could be deceiving; Alejandro practically wrote the book on that subject.

The question caught Renard off-guard and he leaned back in his chair, pulling down the sleeve of his shirt as he took a deep breath. Folding his hands, he leaned forward again in his chair and fixed a look on Alejandro, a smile crawling onto his face: "I was hoping you'd ask..."

"The thing is, a lot of my most major biological functions are run by machines now," Renard said, somewhat sadly. "In your case, you still have all of your organs and other organic tissue in tact. In my case: I don't. And this technology is so hardwired to me, I'd literally die without it. I have to keep up and maintain what I have; I can't remove it for one single second. As for you, as I said before, you're lucky I've been keeping up with improving the technology that saved my life. When you and your family agreed to let me use this tech to save you, I had _everything _prepared. Down to the last detail."

"What I'm saying is: The technology that saved you sped up and encouraged your body's healing process. The body parts have to actually be _there _in order for the tech to work."

Following his words, Alejandro nodded. There was such raw, unfiltered emotion in Renard's voice. To some extent, it really did feel like Renard had healed him out of a deep-rooted humanitarian desire, but Alejandro could just sense there was an ulterior motive. After living with somebody like his older brother Jose for as long as he had, Alejandro could just tell.

"What's in it for you to heal me, then?" Alejandro asked, tilting his head. In a lower voice, Alejandro narrowed his eyes and said: "I know you're not giving my family or me the full truth. Don't get me wrong, I am sincerely grateful that I'm not going to be a robot any longer, but...truly, I don't think any self-respecting doctor would offer something as groundbreaking as the technology you possess _for free_."

Renard's reaction caught Alejandro off-guard. Where he'd been expecting Renard to be secretive and subversive, Renard was still smiling; he even had his fingers steepled and was chuckling softly.

"You're more intelligent in person than on the TV screen!" Renard exclaimed jubilantly. "Every moment I get to know you, Mr. Burromuerto, I know I've made a great choice in an _ally_."

Further confused, Alejandro raised an eyebrow. He folded his arms and remained silent, grilling Renard with a steady glare. At the moment, his best move was to hear what else Renard had to say, but be cautious, too.

"Let me begin by telling you a story..." Renard said grandly, spreading his arms. "About the events that led to me becoming a cyborg in the first place...And this story involves a man you probably know fairly well, the host of a reality television show called Total Drama..."

As he told his story, Alejandro listened attentively. The way he told it, Renard sounded extremely bitter and angry, vilifying Chris in every possible way he could. Apparently, Renard was a very angry man and all of his anger was directed exactly at Chris like a bright red bull's eye. When he was finished, Renard took several deep breaths, poured himself a glass of water and then downed it in several short gulps. His gray eyes were blazing like wildfires and, if his story was true, Alejandro could truly relate with this man. He, too, held a mighty and vicious vendetta against Total Drama, or more specifically, a particular cast member that had taken his heart and smashed it like a glass window.

As calm as he was going to get, Renard turned towards Alejandro: "I want to gain revenge on Chris McClean," he howled, clenching his fists. "And I don't think I could get employed by Total Drama again or find any way to get close enough to gain vengeance. The executives are so scared of me finding a way past their legal barriers and suing them that they've been dodging me for years..."

He smirked at Alejandro. "The executives are trying to bounce back from the complete ratings flop of season 4, so they're currently recruiting for season 5. I still have a friend over in Total Drama who keeps me posted on the current happenings over there...From what he told me recently, they're hoping to get a lot of the cast members from seasons 1-3. That's where you come in..." A sinister smile played on his lips. "I need somebody else on the inside that's as merciless and angry as me. You could keep me posted on the challenges and happenings directly on the set and I could go about behind the scenes, waiting for the best moment to strike at Chris directly. My goal is to completely destroy Chris and that means destroying Total Drama in the process. So, that's all I'm telling of you of my plans for now, but another warning: Once you get in the game, you're not in it for the money. Don't let that distract you. Your main obligation will be assisting _me_."

Alejandro frowned. "What binds me to having to help you?"

"I healed you, didn't I?" Renard replied with a casual shrug. "This isn't the last time you'll be seeing me, either, Alejandro; I'll be in charge of your physical therapy and recovery, too. Besides, I have a feeling you'll want to get involved with my plans of your own volition, anyway..."

"Why?" Alejandro asked. As soon as he did, he felt like the stupidest person on the face of the planet. Just that one little word was all Renard needed to put Alejandro into the palm of his hand.

"Heather...," Renard whispered.

Before Alejandro could say anything else, the door to Renard's office burst open and Alejandro's mother came storming in, her red high-heels creating miniature claps of thunder. First she shot a furious glare at Renard, then she turned her eyes on Alejandro and her fury melted away instantly, replaced by shock and relief. Immediately, she raced over to him and swept him up into her arms, muttering and babbling incoherently.

Looking over his mother's head, Alejandro shot a silent, steely glare at Renard. In response, Renard just smirked and winked at him.

"I'm so glad you're alright..." Alejandro's mother whispered, looking up at him and touching his face. "It's a miracle! A pure miracle..."

"I'm happy too, Mom," Alejandro replied, looking at her and trying to smile as she pulled her hand away and kissed his cheek.

**May 2012-Summer-Hollywood, California-YMCA Strength Training and Conditioning Room**

Sweat was beading on Heather's brow. Her shoulder length hair was drenched in it, as was the long white T-shirt she was wearing. Under no circumstances did she want to know what her arm pits smelled like. Breathing in and out, in and out, Heather looked up at the pale yellow ceiling, trying to catch her breath.

Suddenly, Eva's face reappeared and she nonchalantly hefted the 45 lb. bar above Heather's head and held it barely a foot above her. "You got another set," she said gruffly.

Heather groaned and grabbed the bar. "You're worse than my track coach..."

"Hey, I never said this was gonna be easy," Eva replied, folding her arms. "Now...Go!"

Rolling her eyes, Heather sighed and started lifting the bar, up and down, up and down. Attentively, Eva watched, her hands lightly touching the bar. Once Heather finished, she clunked the bar back into its holding rack and flopped upwards into a sitting position with a groan.

"I think next time you need to up the weight on your bench," Eva said, tapping her fingers on her leg. "55 or 65, maybe? I'm thinking 65."

In reply, Heather just exhaled audibly and wandered past the other benching racks in the room where others were benching and sweating, mostly men. Beyond the benching racks there was a parallel line of squatting racks, then beyond that was a bunch of other exercise equipment. At the other end of the room, Heather waited impatiently for a skinny little bean pole of a guy to finish up at the water fountain. As soon as he saw her, he quickly shimmied away.

"You're not done yet," Eva said bluntly.

Heather whirled around and clenched her fists. "I've already done _10_ sets of bench and squat! My arms feel like wet noodles. I'm _done_."

Grunting, Eva waited as Heather walked over to the water fountain, held her plastic water bottle under it and re-filled it. She promptly took a swig out of it, stuck her tongue out, and groaned. "I _hate _tap water!"

"They don't have a water fountain that shoots double foam lattes," Eva replied. "Maybe at Blainely's hillside mansion, but not _here_."

At the mention of Blainely, Heather's eyes widened. "Did you see the mag saying that she's _dating _Chris?" she asked, then snickered. "Wonder how those two are reacting to the tabloids making up rumors about them..."

Raising an eyebrow, Eva smiled. "You sent in that story?"

Heather just smirked and that told the entire story.

After the end of World Tour, Eva had had a chance meeting with Heather at the air port in Minneapolis on her way to help film an exercise video in Chicago. Heather, apparently, had been heading to the same city to meet up with her parents. At first, they'd scowled and fought with each other, but then, by a weird happenstance, they'd discovered common ground in a bizarre fondness for glitter pens.

Of course they'd forced each other to secrecy, but somehow that led to the two of them actually sitting next to each other on the plane and talking to each other for an extended period of time. After that, they'd kept in touch via Skype and then, by a weird twist of fate, Heather's mom had a business trip based in San Diego, where Eva was visiting her dad for the summer. The two had met up as soon as they both found out they were in the same area and had been hanging out ever since.

In a weird way, they were best friends. Even though they argued a lot, that seemed to be their favorite form of communication. They knew each other well enough by this point that neither one really got mad with the other and they knew what the other was thinking a lot of the time.

Suddenly, the two girls noticed that everybody in the room had dropped what they were doing and were staring at the line of TV sets mounted above the line of treadmills on the other side of the room. Heather and Eva glanced at each other, then wordlessly joined the throng and stared at the TVs.

They were all set to a celebrity gossip channel. A perky brunette wearing too much make-up and a hot pink ascot was on the screen in front of a small, two-story blond brick house. There were a couple of people behind her, smiling, waving, and making peace signs at the camera.

"...here in sunny, warm Lima, Peruat the home of one of the previous Total Drama contestants, Alejandro Burromuerto..."

As soon as she heard that name, Heather's jaw dropped and she could feel her heart morphing into a stone. And that stone was dropping into her chest. Time seemed to freeze and World Tour came rushing back at her like a tidal wave. Next to her, Eva gave her a concerned look.

The way-too-happy brunette said something else that Heather didn't hear, then the camera panned and the black sphere end of the microphone appeared in front of Alejandro. He was smiling, his dark brown hair as long as it had been before, his pale green eyes full of life. Just looking at his face, he looked like he had in World Tour: He was healthy, unscathed, as if he'd never been run over by lava at all...

Heather could feel what was left of her heart rattling like a maraca in her chest; her mouth was full of dry wall. It killed her when he started talking, his voice flowing like smooth, suave velvet. Memories were pelting her full force now: she could feel his hand stroking her cheek, his intense and angry glare. He wasn't even in the room next to her and he was making her knees shake, making her emotions swirl and whirl like miniature tops. Tears prickled behind her eyes.

Gently, Eva grabbed her upper arm and dragged her out of the room before anybody could approach Heather or ask her what she thought. Once they were out in the hall, Heather burst into tears and Eva quickly dragged her out to her white '94 Honda as quickly as she could. Once they were inside, Eva noticed people dribbling out of the YM, looking around interestedly with wide, doe eyes.

"I can't believe it..." Heather mumbled as Eva slid her key into the ignition as quickly as she could. "...How?...How?"

"He must have a pretty damn good miracle worker as his doctor," Eva replied.


	2. Prologue Part 2: Jose and Rio

Prologue: Jose and Rio

**May 2012-Summer-Chicago, Illinois-Chicago O'Hare Airport**

Jose was tapping his foot impatiently, staring at all of the people wandering throughout the giant air port. Voices speaking several different languages all the way from German to Japanese to French filled the air, along with several different scents; flags from all the different countries of the world hung down from the ceiling.

Next to Jose stood a man that was barely over four feet tall; he had a huge bald spot and was clinging to his suit case as if it were a life preserver. He was extremely nervous, disgruntled by the angry look on his client Jose's face. Jose towered over him at an imposing height of six foot two and his temper at its worst was absolutely ferocious. So, even though Paco absolutely hated working as Jose's agent, he still made a conscious effort to do anything and everything that he could to keep Jose happy.

Ever since his younger brother Alejandro had become famous, Jose took the chance to leech off of that fame. He'd entered the lime light by announcing this over and over and actually had the gall to contact agents or pick up opportunities that Alejandro hadn't been able to attend to considering that he'd been bedridden and recovering from being fried alive by a volcano for the past year or so. Eventually, Jose found Paco; Paco had originally wanted to sign Alejandro for a three year music contract because he'd liked his singing voice on World Tour. Instead, after Jose's irritating persistence and insistence, Paco had given him a chance and it turned out that Jose had an incredible voice, possibly even better than Alejandro's.

Plus he practically marketed himself by masquerading behind a good, honest teen pop star image. The kid was just lucky that his fan girls were mostly impressionable pre teen girls trying to find something to fill in the hole left behind by Justin Bieber.

Jose Burromuerto himself was nineteen years old and rotten to the core; he had brown hair that ended just above his rounded chin and he wore a black fedora. His green eyes were usually angry, irritated, or frustrated whenever he wasn't pretending to be happy or his plans were going entirely as he wanted them to. Tall and muscular, Jose was pretty easy to spot; he was wearing a white striped button down shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of black leather boots.

"Where is she?" Jose growled, gritting his teeth. Somehow, Paco was able to hear him over the cacophony of babble all around them.

"She'll be here, I promise," Paco tried to reassure him. "Rio's agent is just as convinced about this being a good career move for her as I am that it'll be for you."

"Think her plane was late?" Jose asked, raising his eyebrow as he scanned the crowds wandering through the O'Hare airport again.

"There could be a number of things..." Paco sighed, starting to play with the silver latches on top of his suitcase. "Her agent hasn't contacted me since noon earlier today. Though, Lana hasn't really been very prompt or courteous with me-"

"Shut up!" Jose cut him off, raising a hand.

A strange pair was walking up to them: one was a slender and buxom fashion plate with long blond hair that could be a modern day Amazon and the other was a seventeen-year old Latina girl with curvaceous hips, brown eyes, and long black hair. Despite himself, Jose couldn't help checking both of them out. It was obvious they were a pair of absolute knock-outs. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Paco gaping like a fish, his face the shade of a tomato; he was like that every time he saw Rio's blond agent Lana.

Rolling his eyes, Jose folded his arms and plastered a fake smile to his face. It was incredibly obvious that Paco had only agreed to meet up with Lana because he had an extreme scale delusion that he could actually score with a woman like her.

"H-hello Lana," Paco chirped.

"Rio," Lana called, ignoring Paco completely as she gestured for her client to come forward. "Meet your new boyfriend."

As soon as she stepped forward, she looked at Jose skeptically from head to toe. When she finished she smirked at him and Jose couldn't help smirking back. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad pretending to date this girl; she was pretty attractive and it looked like she had a saucy attitude, a trait that Jose personally looked for in a girlfriend.

"Yeah, I like you," Rio purred, reaching out and playing with the collar of Jose's shirt. "And I'm not pretending to flirt; I _am_ flirting with you, so no need to try to figure out if the subject of your wet dreams has arrived or not."

Jose reached up and placed his hand over hers. "Nice to meet you, too, _mamacita_."

"Ooh." Rio gently pulled her hand away and stroked the back of his with her index finger. "A gentleman. You don't have to be polite; I like bad boys-"

"Rio," Lana interrupted, glaring at her. Then she smiled a little. "Save it for the stage."

Shrugging, Rio backed away and returned to standing next to her agent; she winked slyly at Jose. Smirking, Jose winked back. So far it looked like Rio was going to be quite interesting. Never before had he met a girl quite as forward or suggestive as Rio and she'd managed this in under a minute of meeting for the very first time!

"Paco," Lana trumpeted, showing who was in charge of everything here. "We need to get to the hotel downtown and double check on the tour schedule. In the mean time, book these two a table at the biggest restaurant here in Chicago. I want the paparazzi swarming them like flies before tomorrow."

Paco bobbed his head and whimpered while Lana commanded all of this, her hands perched on her hips.

Next to Lana, Rio motioned at Paco and rolled her eyes, silently mouthing exactly what Jose thought of him. She rolled her eyes and Jose snickered.

If Jose had his way, he was going to be making out with Rio in the back of the tour bus by tomorrow night.

**June 2012-Summer-New Orleans, Louisiana-Crocodile Lounge**

Chris stared out of the window at the old and historic buildings of New Orleans that crawled up and down the street. Even though it was 10 o' clock at night there were still tourists prowling around everywhere like ants, snapping pictures with their cameras and oohing and aahing at everything. The locals just passed by them without a single glance, going about their business.

To Chris' utter irritation, a teen couple was hanging around the window, pointing and waving in an attempt to grab his attention. Just as the girl was raising her cell phone to snap a picture, Chris reached out and pulled the black curtains shut.

Turning away from the window, Chris sighed heavily and pulled his own cell phone out of his pants pocket; he started flipping it open and closed. Ever since season 4 of Total Drama had been a complete failure with ratings, the producers had really been breathing down Chris' neck. Twice now they'd threatened to fire him, now they'd hired a co-host for season 5 (Chris still didn't know who it was); the producers were pulling every string they could to save a show that used to be their bread and butter. If season 5 failed, Chris was completely out of work and considering the beginning decline of popularity for reality television and game shows in general, Chris suspected that he wouldn't be able to pick up any other work.

"Is something on your mind?" someone asked.

When Chris looked up he tried to suppress a groan; it was Lana, a woman that could give Blainely a run for her money in the department of being annoying and bossy. She'd invited Chris to New Orleans to see her client Rio in action; she was hoping to get Rio a spot on Total Drama to help boost her popularity. Rio was a famous Mexican American teen pop star idol; well, she was for the moment anyway. Chris had only agreed to come here and see Rio perform with her partner Jose since he knew if both of them appeared on season 5 of Total Drama, it might just be a career-saving move.

It'd just be better if Lana wasn't attached.

"No," Chris replied, trying to keep from revealing how glum and stressed out he was.

"Your face says otherwise," Lana replied, sauntering over to where he was sitting and sat in the recliner next to his. She made a show out of crossing her long, shapely legs which Chris tried to ignore; she didn't realize that her scary similarity to Blainely had sapped all of her sex appeal for him. Who cares that she had big boobs, a supermodel body, and a beautiful face?

"I know about the situation with Total Drama," Lana pressed, her gray eyes shining like steel. "I'm not an exclusive agent. I'm very aggressive, Mr. McClain, I could be your dream agent..."

"Are you here to get a deal for Rio or are you trying to advance your own personal career?" Chris quipped. Lana had started out forcing Rio down his throat and now...

"I'm just keeping my options open," Lana replied, winking at him. "Rio's pop stardom isn't going to last forever, but I can't be stuck to her with a ball and chain, now can I?"

Chris' eyes widened. "Oh...you really don't think Rio's career is going to last through Total Drama, do you?"

Lana made a face. "I'm sure you know all too well what it's like working with bratty teenagers," she scowled. "Rio and Jose can save your show, but only at the expense of losing their own "squeaky clean" image and revealing their true hell spawn natures. Trust me, these two can give Alejandro and Heather a run for their money in the department of deception..."

"I thought you were Rio's agent," Chris interjected. Another duo like Alejandro and Heather appearing on Total Drama...? Now this would be interesting.

"On paper I'm specifically Rio's agent, but ever since I contacted Jose's agent and picked him up, I might as well be the agent for both of them," Lana groaned. "Paco is so incompetent he couldn't book a limo service to drive him _out_ of a paper bag!"

"I could ruin your entire career by telling both your clients and Paco what you just said in here, right?" Chris said, even though he felt like he was just springing a trap.

"Why would you want to?" Lana asked in a low, threatening voice. She got up out of her chair and leaned in until her face was only inches away from his and she had his full attention. "We both know that Season 5 is going to make or break you. You're at the very top of your game right now, Chris: most successful reality television host, _Glitter _magazine's sexiest man of the year, several awards and accolades...I'd be stupid not to try to get you as my client, let alone let Total Drama sink. In the end, this is really about salvaging _you_, whether Total Drama stays alive and kicking or not."

To lessen the tension a bit, she recoiled and sat back in her own chair, steepling her fingers. "Even if Total Drama fails, I could find other work for you. What I'm offering _you _is a way _out_."

"Five minutes before curtain!" a voice called from beyond the break room backstage.

Knowing that Jose and Rio's performance was about to start, Lana smiled coyly and raised an eyebrow. What she'd just said had Chris beside himself. Even though she labeled her own clients as "hell spawn," Chris wondered if it took one to know one. She knew exactly how to play the game and was definitely doing so to her advantage. Even if in the end she was the one with the best advantage and made that exceedingly obvious, her offer was still tempting and pulling at Chris' heart strings.

"Think about it," Lana mouthed, then smiled, showing off her pearly white teeth which may as well have been sharpened canines.

With that, she stood up and wandered out of the room to some unknown location backstage, her high heels clicking.

As soon as she was gone, Chris just felt himself come unglued. He braced his elbows on his knees and tossed his face into his hands, shaking his head, once again pondering the desolate situation with his job.

For being a fairly new night club in New Orleans, the Crocodile Lounge was already picking up good business; there had already been two other big performers that had shown up here before Jose and Rio.

In the main part of the Lounge, the walls were pale green and covered in cheesy plastic crocodile props and a few neon signs were hung up here and there as well. The main part of the room was a collection of round glass tables with some sort of silly plastic crocodile shaped napkin holder in the center. On the left wall of the room was the bar, which had been closed up temporarily tonight, and on the right side of the room was a retro looking dance floor with colorful, light-up tiles.

At the back end of the room was a giant wooden stage. Right now the wine colored curtains were closed. Chris was barely a few feet away from the stage, nervously thumbing the croc-in-a-hula-skirt napkin holder at his table. Two big and burly bodyguards in black were the only things holding back a swarm of sweating, rabid pre to teenage girls that sat at the tables beyond. Some of them were looking in his general direction, whispering excitedly and trying to take pictures with their cell phones. Yet, despite how many of them were here, crazy fan girls that wanted to rip his clothes to shreds and beg for autographs was the last thing Chris was worried about.

At a table nearby sat Lana and skittish little Paco. Lana's fingers were laced together, her chin resting on them as she looked up impatiently at the stage; Paco was staring up at her with a longing, puppy dog look. They looked like a funny pair and Chris would have laughed, loudly too, if he actually didn't feel kind of sorry for Paco having to deal with Lana the shark.

Suddenly, the curtains onstage parted and the air was filled with incoherent, loud squealing and screaming from the crowd of girls in the room. Jose and Rio stood at the center of the stage, back to back, holding microphones. Behind them were a guitarist, a bassist, and a drummer. Chris actually felt his stomach clench; he reached into his pants pockets and pulled out a pair of ear plugs. Was this going to be a live show where they actually sang instead of lip syncing?

After his own personal experiences as being part of a boy band, he knew that when it came to pop music there was always somebody with an ear-grating voice. And that person usually wanted to hog the spotlight and sing at live shows.

The band started playing and after 8 or 9 bars in, Jose and Rio made a dramatic show out of starting to sing the first few notes. From what snatches of voice Chris could hear over the loud squealing and singing, these two actually had good tone and pitch, complementing each other nicely. Though, as the show went on, the show really felt like it was starting to drag. One generic pop song duet about love was okay, but followed by two or three more and then a bunch of cornball romantic banter between Jose and Rio in-between...

Together, it was enough to make Chris look longingly at the bar and wish he was frowning himself in booze. He hated what little romantic crap happened on Total Drama, let alone an entire homage to the cutesy, cheesy, ridiculous things people, especially teenagers, did when they were "in love."

Painfully, he made it through the entire two hour show and was extremely relieved when Jose and Rio turned down their fan girls' roaring plea for an encore. As soon as the entire Lounge was devoid of the fan girls, the place actually felt kind of empty...even a little lonely.

Groaning softly, Chris stared at the bar and seriously considered bribing the manager to let him have a few drinks. Unfortunately, his plans were foiled as soon as Lana evaporated out of nowhere with Jose, Rio, and Paco in tow. All three of them collapsed into chairs around the table and stared expectantly at Chris.

"Time to get down to business," Lana announced in her booming, authoritative voice. "The deal is Jose and Rio appear in season 5 to compete and provide musical accompaniment. Even though they're celebrities in their own right, they must follow the rules of this season as you outlined them-"

"Wait!" Jose interrupted, raising a hand and glaring at Lana. "You said the prize for this season is 3 million dollars...I can easily make that much _and more _by the end of the cross country U.S. tour."

Sitting on the other side of Lana, Rio rolled her eyes. "Shut up, _pendejo_! Lana already explained this a million times. It's all about _image_, not _money_. Besides, I _want_ to compete in Total Drama, so don't ruin this for me."

"Image?" Jose blew out a breath and rolled his eyes. "You just wanna check out the other guys on the show and be a complete-"

"Quit being so possessive, _pendejo, _I'm not really your girlfriend and I never was. Just because you're a good kisser-"

"Quit calling me _pendejo_, you _puta_!" Jose yelled.

Before they could bicker any further, Lana reached out and grabbed both of them by the ear lobe, then pulled. "Match made in heaven, aren't they?" she said.

"Please moderate your language around Mr. McClain, Jose," Paco begged, his brows furrowed; it was obvious that it was taking a lot of nerve on his part to say just that much. "I'm really sorry, sir. Very truly-"

"What's in it for me if I compete in season 5?" Jose barked, ignoring Lana pulling on his ear.

Thinking for a few seconds, Chris drummed the table top, then gave Jose a knowing look. "Alejandro's going to be in season 5..."

"Al...? That idiot's returning to the show!" Jose cried, smirking. "That's all you had to tell me! Hell, count me in."

"Can we just get to signing the papers now?" Lana demanded, looking like she was about to kill somebody.

Three o' clock in the morning...It was three o' clock.

At least Lana, Paco, Jose, and Rio were gone. Chris was thankful for that as he walked down the hallway of the hotel he was staying at in search of a vending machine. Tonight was going to be another sleepless night. Not for the first time Chris found himself thinking about the fact that the fifth season was coming up this October. Right on the very first day of that particular month, too. And it'd go all the way until the 31st.

There was so much being put into season 5. Tension and stress were so high and there wasn't one spare moment when the producers weren't worrying about it, or stressing him out about it. He was so exhausted he wanted to collapse to the carpeted floor, yet at the same time he couldn't get himself to sleep. At this rate, he was bound to end up an insomniac.

Passing by several rooms, the numbers on brass plates on each door started to blur and become incomprehensible. Chris was getting close to the vending machine; he could feel it.

Suddenly, the world tilted somewhat and his vision blurred slightly. Chris ignored it and kept walking, but then it happened again. After several seconds, Chris actually felt like he was on hallucinogens as the world started leaping and lurching and blurring together. Everything turned into an indistinguishable mass of dark color, as if Chris had been pulled into an abstract piece with a black and white to monochromatic color scheme. Things became even more trippy as a bright yellow figure started rising up out of the darker blur and colors, like an angel out of a biblical scene.

Had Chris had any kind of alcohol tonight...? He couldn't remember.

The yellow figure took the shape of a curvaceous woman in a long white toga; she had honey blond hair that sailed around her face and she looked absolutely tranquil and serene. She reached out and touched Chris' shoulder lightly with her finger tip and he suddenly felt tranquil and serene. All of his problems melted away instantly and for the first time in almost an entire year he actually felt close to being happy and relaxed.

With a small smile, the ethereal woman pulled her hand away; Chris found himself looking up into her golden eyes. Those liquid gold irises vaguely reminded him of his plane from back in season 3, his baby. Though, instead of feeling frustration or anger like he had in the past towards flashbacks about it, he actually reveled in them. He actually felt like he could forgive Sierra for blowing his plane up...and there was nothing before now that could have changed his mind about that particular event.

"I come bearing a warning," the woman whispered in a smooth, flowing voice. "Normally, I'd send a messenger, but this is so urgent I had to come and tell you myself. I'm the goddess Harmonia, the technical opposite of Eris, the goddess of chaos. I have a feeling she's going to be showing up around the set of season 5 for Total Drama...and I think there's a certain reason for why she holds such an interest in it."

Chris just nodded, his eyelids drooping. Being calm, happy, and relaxed was only making it easier for him to finally give in to sleep.

Earnestly, Harmonia leaned in and placed a finger under his chin, making him look at her.

"I know you need some sleep, but listen to me, please," Harmonia insisted. "Convince the producers to cancel season 5. Make sure none of the contestants go anywhere near the set. And avoid Lana at all costs-"

"Wait, wait, wait..." Chris cut her off, snapping out of his sleepy daze long enough to glare at her. "As much as I hate Total Drama anymore, I need this job. It's failing so much right now nobody else will hire me, even though I have good credentials and references! Total Drama is all I have and my luck is heavily riding on season 5."

"Your safety and the safety of the contestants is more important than a job," Harmonia replied, frowning. "Besides, you _could _find _another _job. Where one door closes, another one opens."

"I refuse to go back to my boy band days and the days when I was _nothing_!" Chris protested heatedly. "I've actually made something of myself and I worked hard to get where I am!"

"I guess being warned by a goddess isn't enough to pass your stubbornness and vanity..." Harmonia whispered, shaking her head. "You can't say I didn't warn you, though."

"You're just part of me being drunk or high!" Chris screamed.

"Just get some sleep, McClain," Harmonia sighed. She reached out and touched his shoulder again, actually digging her fingernails in.

The next thing Chris knew he was back in his hotel room, in his bed and under the sheets and blankets. What anger he'd been feeling melted away, replaced by happy images and daydreams. Smiling, Chris rolled over and could swear that he was sinking into the feathery down of a cloud. Sleep wasn't too far away now.

"Sweet dreams, mortal," Harmonia whispered, morose as she lightly stroked his dark black hair. "Just...please think about what I told you. Eris started the Trojan War and she could do so much more than just make you lose your job if she interferes too heavily. Please, I just can't stand the thought of that happening yet again and not being able to do anything about it..."

Sighing again, Harmonia stared at Chris' sleeping form, then leaned in and kissed him tenderly on the forehead before fading away into a bunch of drifting and glittering dust motes.


	3. Episode 1 Part 1: Explosivo and Blainely

Episode 1, Part 1: The Return of Explosivo and Blainely

A/N: I made reference to a Vengaboys song in this chapter.

**October 1, 2012-Set of Total Drama K-O**

"I don't like the looks of this place and it usually takes _a lot_ to freak me out," Eva said as she looked at the set for season 5 of Total Drama, otherwise officially titled Total Drama K-O.

"_You_ don't have to compete in there," Heather snapped, shuddering.

The two of them were standing in front of a pair of black wrought iron gates. Beyond those was an abandoned movie set. There was a series of 13 different metal, rusted warehouses; some of the warehouses had huge holes punctured in the side or looked otherwise dilapidated and decrepit. Cobwebs were scattered everywhere and there were bits and pieces of debris everywhere. Overall, the place was practically a living ghost town.

If neither Heather or Eva had been paying any closer attention, they wouldn't have seen the interns scrabbling around through the set like ants.

"Are you telling me that you're...scared?" Eva smirked a little, raising an eyebrow.

"No...I'm not scared!" Heather replied, glaring. "I've faced things scarier than this before!"

"You better not be talking about _me_," Eva warned, gritting her teeth.

"As if," Heather gibed. "Keep dreaming."

"I'll forget you just said that..." Eva said, looking around the set. "Where are the other contestants at?"

"They got intimidated because they heard both of us were showing up," Heather joked, flashing a triumphant smile.

In response, Eva smiled back and gave Heather a fist bump. Heather, too, had been looking for the other contestants without much luck. Her lungs felt like they were being squeezed and her stomach was tied in knots; she was desperately hoping that Alejandro wasn't in this season or at least that he wouldn't be the first one she ran into.

After season 3 she felt like she was a bit better liked by the other contestants, not completely, but close. LeShawna had actually sent her an e-mail apologizing for punching her teeth out and giving her kudos for beating Alejandro. Overall, though, LeShawna and Eva were pretty much the only two contestants that Heather was actually on speaking terms with. It seemed really weird that she was friends with either considering past history, but outside of the competitive air of Total Drama, things seemed less tense and angry. Deep down though, Heather knew that if Eva had been accepted for season 5, whatever friendship they had would be gone.

Eagerly, Heather had been waiting for another opportunity to compete, but now that she was actually here, she felt kind of nervous. She felt like she was about to walk into the lion's den and out of everyone in there, Alejandro was probably the most furious with her. Gritting her teeth, she crossed her fingers on both hands and vowed that he'd be the first she got voted off this time around.

"Something's bugging you..." Eva observed, folding her arms.

"No." Heather frowned and rolled her eyes.

"You've been quiet for an entire minute," Eva said, frowning back. "That's really unlike you."

Before Heather could further be grilled by Eva, an intern had showed up at the wrought iron gates and was pushing them open. Both Eva and Heather watched as the intern walked up towards them; she was barely five foot three, around Cody's height, with long brown hair, blue eyes, and she was wearing a bright orange shirt. Her shirt made Heather want to gag; personally, she'd never be caught dead in a shade of orange _that _bright!

"Follow me!" the girl said, beckoning them in. "I was wondering when you were going to show up! Everyone else is here already."

That comment made Heather's legs turn into lead. That meant that Alejandro was already here...and who knew what he'd do as soon as he saw her? Trying to swallow the lump in her throat, Heather forced herself to follow the intern.

"Good luck!" Eva called, raising a hand and waving.

Heather waved back, almost wishing that Eva were walking in with her. Every step she took, Heather steeled herself. She wasn't sure if she was more scared of what Chris would throw at her this season or Alejandro, but no matter what, she was going to face either one head on and unflinching.

Alejandro cursed under his breath as he exited the absolutely filthy bathroom. An intern was down the hall, running a squealing vacuum; he was so consumed in his current task that he didn't notice Alejandro glaring at him. Rolling his eyes, Alejandro wandered back into the main part of the warehouse where episode one of the new Total Drama season was going to take place.

A huge part of the warehouse was sectioned off with an unbelievably gigantic red velvet curtain. The visible part was full of cobwebs, cracked asphalt, harried interns, and two long rows of uncomfortable metal bleachers where the rest of the contestants were sitting. They'd all been led here by a short fry of an intern and had been sitting here, waiting impatiently. On top of that, Chris was nowhere to be seen; there were rumors of a co-host that some people were speculating was Blainely; there was another rumor that there were going to be two new contestants...Pretty much nobody knew what was going on and nobody was telling them anything.

Alejandro had heard bits and pieces through eavesdropping in the shadows for two or three minutes; then he'd spent the past four minutes in the bathroom, lengthening the time between having to come face to face with the other contestants for as long as he could. But he couldn't hide forever. Besides, it made him feel like such a coward; he'd derailed and beaten almost every one of the other contestants in season 3...so what was he so scared of now?

Reluctantly, Alejandro wandered back towards where the other contestants were. The closer he came, it became a simultaneous event when all of them either glared daggers at him or just stared; it was exactly the reaction he'd been expecting. When he sat down, the person closest to him, Bridgette, made a show out of shuffling away from him; she scuttled into Geoff's lap and turned away when Alejandro stared at her.

"You've got a lot of nerve returning to the show," Duncan said, holding up his fists. "I don't know whether to be impressed...or to beat the living crap out of you."

"He was run over by lava-" Gwen tried to protest.

"Well, he's back, isn't he?" LeShawna grumbled bitterly. "Even being run over by lava isn't enough to keep this bastard away."

"I won't let him hurt you," Harold whispered next to her, touching her hand.

LeShawna laced her fingers through his and smiled slightly. "He won't hurt you either. If he lays _one _finger on you, I'll knock so many teeth out of his mouth he'll have to get dental work to match Heather's."

Blowing out a breath, Alejandro rolled his eyes and turned away. He could feel so many of the other contestants glaring at him, could see them gritting and grinding their teeth in his mind's eye. He could also sense their confusion and utter bewilderment; they were all wondering why he wasn't in worse condition than he was. It was obvious from the flabbergasted looks he received from Gwen, Cody, and Bridgette; even Izzy was pretty surprised.

Even though he knew it was a daunting task, Alejandro tried to ignore them, but he could hear the harsh whispers and comments; nobody was holding any of their personal thoughts back. An entire year had passed since World Tour, but the majority of the contestants were still simmering with an intense hatred for him, making them a united front...

"_He's lucky he's alive..." "I can't believe he survived the volcano...Lucky bastard. He won't be so lucky this season if **I **get my hands on him, though..." "I hate him **so **much. If he comes within one millimeter of you, Cody-kins, I promise I'll rip his eyeballs out!" "Alejandro saved my life...I just hope he doesn't come looking for favors this season, because he won't get anything from me!" "Explosivo...!" "Izzy...is that a stick of dynamite...Who gave that to you...?"_

Heart thumping in his chest, Alejandro felt himself digging his fingernails into the skin of his arms. This was like being in the same room with Jose, only ten times worse. Sweat was sticking to the back of his neck; his legs were shaking. His stomach was roiling like a tsunami; he felt like he might blow chunks all over the floor any minute now.

All of the suppressed fear and anxiety that he'd been trying to hold off by hiding was chewing at him. It was almost as if all of his arrogance, confidence, and will had completely disappeared for an entire minute...

In season 3, he'd been so sure that he'd win and that he'd never see any of these people ever again; he'd been primarily driven by his lust for the money...But now...what did he have to look forward to? He was here to help Dr. Renard in his mad quest for vengeance on Chris as well as for his own quest to gain vengeance on Heather. Even if he wanted the money, Alejandro felt that Renard could find some way to get him kicked out of the game or worse for not focusing on the mission; somehow, Renard had completely played Alejandro and held him by a binding contract. Of course Alejandro was going to try to find a way out and go for the money instead anyway, but his brain was so cluttered and confused, he couldn't think...

Right now, Alejandro felt like he knew what it was like to have an inferiority complex; like he was backed into a corner with no way out...And Heather wasn't even here yet.

When he looked down, Alejandro noticed that he'd left thin white lines on his arms from his fingernails; at least he hadn't drawn blood-

"Hello, _Al_," an-all-too-familiar voice crowed.

Feeling his heart completely stop, Alejandro looked up; his worst nightmare was coming to life before his eyes. His older brother Jose towered over him, smirking cockily.

"Long time no see," Jose said, laughing and lowering himself to Alejandro's eye level. "I'm almost sorry I couldn't come see you in the hospital, _little_ bro. I was too busy building a career, making tons of money scoring with a hot chick that _didn't_ kick me in the balls when I went in for a kiss...You know? Everything you couldn't-"

"Shut up!" Alejandro growled now that he was beyond his breaking point.

"Little Al's _jealous_!" Jose snickered. "Hey...I noticed that little bean pole's here this season. You already got beaten by a girl, so, what next..? A guy that couldn't even bench press a _pencil_?"

Glaring, Alejandro could feel his temperature rising with his anger as he gritted and grinded his teeth. Snickering in an extremely irritating way, Jose leaned in closer, mere millimeters from Alejandro's face. So close that Alejandro could feel his brother's breath on his nose.

"Maybe you should go back home and look for heliconia flowers with _Mama_?" Jose continued to taunt, smirking so wide it showed two rows of razor blade teeth. "Are you about to-"

Before Jose could finish speaking, Alejandro reeled back and punched him in the mouth. Hard. Then he grabbed a fistful of Jose's shirt and leaned in, glaring into Jose's surprised goose egg green eyes.

"I'm not putting up with your _mierda_," Alejandro promised in a steely voice. "Leave me alone."

Jose's eyebrows shot up and Alejandro slowly let go of his shirt. As Jose backed away, he reached up and gingerly touched his jaw, his eyes wide and bewildered. Seeing him like that made Alejandro smile a little. Everything felt so surreal right now, he may as well be caught in the midst of a dream. He'd never had the gall to outright punch Jose before...but it felt good. Made him feel powerful.

"Ooh...you've got quite the arm!" a voice trilled, bringing Alejandro out of his reverie.

A pair of chocolate brown eyes was staring directly into his now; the new arrival was batting her eyelashes at him and smiling. "Hey...I'm Rio," she chirped.

"I'm Alejandro," he replied, reaching out and taking her hand. She giggled as he kissed her fingers and left her hand there a few more seconds than she should have.

"_Rio_!" Jose growled, his teeth bared.

"Oh, quit being so possessive, _honey_," Rio said, putting her hands on her hips.

Alejandro watched and tried to keep from laughing as Jose muttered a long string of curse words in Spanish under his breath. Sighing, Rio wandered over to Jose and then gave him a huge kiss, making a big display out of it by kicking one of her legs up and throwing her arms around his neck. The display made Alejandro feel sick again.

Frowning, he peered curiously over his shoulder at the other contestants, wanting to gauge their reactions of Jose and Rio. Geoff and Bridgette were chuckling softly to each other, staring at Jose and Rio, then back at each other. LeShawna was staring at Jose and Rio with a perplexed expression on her face; Harold shared her confusion. Behind them, Sierra had dug her cell phone out of her jeans pocket and was staring intently at the tiny screen; Cody was sprawled over her lap and looked like he'd rather be anywhere than where he was right now. Duncan was whispering something to Gwen, pointing at Alejandro, then at Jose. Lindsay was trying to figure out what Duncan was whispering to Gwen and Tyler was leaning in next to her, touching her shoulder and waiting for her to tell him what was going on. And Owen and Izzy seemed to have disappeared from the present group.

"Could you two lovebirds get a _room_?" Heather cried, her voice breaking through the loud smacking and smooching sounds.

As soon as he heard her, Alejandro's eyes flew right towards where she was standing. Her arms were folded and she was tapping her foot impatiently as she glared heatedly at Jose and Rio. A weird mixture of intense hatred and desire flared up in Alejandro and he just couldn't stop staring. After a few more seconds, Heather noticed he was staring and looked back; their gazes locked and he could swear he saw her blushing slightly.

Despite himself, he felt the urge to leap up from where he was sitting, run over to where she was and just envelop her in his arms. Somehow, he just remained sitting, but he was gripping the metal bleachers underneath him with an iron grip. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his knuckles starting to turn white. To his utter surprise, Heather wandered over to him until she was only three feet away. It'd be so easy for him to reach out and touch her arm...

"How...how did you survive being run over by lava?" she asked, looking like she was in a trance.

"I..." Alejandro was lost for words.

She didn't say anything as she reached out and gently touched his cheek, rubbing her fingers against his skin. Her touch sent shivers racing down Alejandro's spine; he was almost caught under the spell that she was and was just about to lean in for a kiss...

Suddenly, the moment ended and a huge gray smoke cloud started building up. The petite silhouette of Izzy emerged from the smoke, followed by the more massive Owen. As soon as they came into sight, Izzy had the expression of a mad scientist and Owen looked like he was about to pee his pants.

"Explosion! Explosivo wants more _boom boom_!" Izzy squealed, shaking like a cell phone set on vibrate. Her arms were full of sticks of dynamite and there were matches sticking out between her teeth.

All of the other contestants were on their feet now, looking at Izzy and Owen with wide, scared eyes. Owen tried to pry the explosives away from Izzy, but she leaped and arced backward through the air. When she landed, she'd somehow lit all of the matches and deftly used all of them to light the dynamite she was holding. Laughing wickedly, she lowered the sticks of dynamite and left them there, fizzling and sparking, while she turned and ran off somewhere unknown, Owen chasing after her.

Somebody screamed and cuss words were echoing off of the walls.

"What idiot left explosives in the same building as Izzy?" Harold cried.

Alejandro leaped up from his spot and took off at a run. Apparently, Duncan, Leshawna, and Jose had the same line of thinking as he did. They all scrambled at the sticks of dynamite and started stamping at the lit ends with their shoes. When all of the dynamite sticks were successfully put out, they all performed one last check, then Duncan took off at a brisk jog and gestured over his shoulder at the smoke. "Owen's not gonna be able to stop Izzy by himself! Try to form a circle so that we can cut her off and stop her from setting off any more dynamite!"

"How will we know when we're in a circle?" LeShawna asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Let's just stay in a group and wait until we find Izzy to form a circle," Alejandro replied.

They all nodded and then ran into the smoke. Alejandro found himself leading the way, listening intently for Izzy's crazed, psychopathic laughter and Owen begging and wailing. Within moments they found her again and she was standing triumphantly atop a huge pile of dynamite, every last one of the sticks lit. Owen was sitting next to her atop the pile, blubbering and yammering incoherently about food.

"BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!" Izzy screamed, throwing her fists to the air. "_EXPLOSIVO WANTS YOU IN HER ROOM!_"

The small group just stared, all initial plans of action gone. Jose was shamelessly latched on to Alejandro, his eyes squeezed shut as he screamed. Duncan and LeShawna were clinging to each other like life rafts. "I've never liked you," Duncan told LeShawna.

"I've never liked you either," LeShawna replied.

"Alejandro..." Jose blubbered. "If we're going to die...I have something I want to tell-"

Out of nowhere, the rest of Jose's words were drowned out by the sound of rushing water. For a few seconds, it looked like there was a huge rain storm going on within the warehouse. Everyone was instantly soaked, through their clothes and down to their underwear.

When the water stopped, the only thing Alejandro was aware of was the loud roar of his heartbeat in his ears. He reached up and pushed wet strands of hair out of his face. The huge pile of dynamite had collapsed and fallen; Owen and Izzy sat at the bottom, Owen hugging Izzy and looking confused and bewildered while Izzy laughed and smiled like a maniac. Of course she was completely unaffected by what had just happened.

"Does this normally happen on this dumbass show?" Jose trumpeted, back to his normal obnoxious gusto.

Alejandro turned and looked at his older brother, who was flat on his back and looked extremely irritated. Remembering that he'd looked like a frightened baby mere seconds ago, Alejandro laughed and continued laughing until he was rolling on the floor and the others were staring blankly at him. Yet, even though he was embarrassing himself, when was the next time he'd get to see Jose look so pathetic and get to laugh at it?

Watching Alejandro, Jose, LeShawna, and Duncan run off after Izzy, Heather couldn't believe that she was just frozen in place. She was touching her cheek, thoughts racing; her heart beat was blaring like a car alarm and she could swear that her cheeks were on fire.

Cody was staring contemplatively at the sticks of dynamite, Sierra looking over his shoulder and yammering about something. Gwen was staring at the smoke, Harold next to her, both of them trying to figure out where Duncan and LeShawna had run off to. Geoff led Bridgette, Tyler, and Lindsay in search of a hose.

As she watched the others leap into action or at least doing something, Heather became frustrated with herself. In the end, she turned and started searching for an exit, forcing herself to focus on the task at hand instead of her confusion over Alejandro, but before she could get anywhere, her progress was cut off by Rio.

"I noticed you making goo-goo eyes at Alejandro," Rio said with a small smile.

"No...I wasn't!" Heather said, blushing. She tried to find a way around Rio, leaning back and forth, but Rio blocked her every move.

"You know this was all set up by McClain as a ploy to start off the season," Rio said casually, one of her eyebrows raised. "I overheard him discussing it with my agent before I came on set..."

"That does sound like something Chris would do..." Heather mused, standing still and regarding Rio with a suspicious stare.

"Now that you know you're safe, talk to me," Rio insisted, holding her hands up. "There's still something going on between you and Alejandro...Admit it."

"I _do not_!" Heather barked.

"Quit denying the obvious," Rio said, rolling her eyes. "I'm just telling you...Make your move or I'll make it for you."

"...you want Alejandro?" Heather asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rio just smirked in response. "Jose's such a brat. Can you blame me?"

"Go ahead and take Alejandro, then," Heather replied, frowning. "I definitely don't want him."

"Why do I doubt that?" Rio said, tilting her head to the side and smiling. "Yeah, stealing him from you is going to be so much more fun with you knowing what I'm doing."

Before Heather could reply, both girls found themselves drenched from head to foot. A sound like the falling and roaring waters of Niagara Falls echoed throughout the warehouse; water was falling through the open holes in the ceiling as if there was a heavy rainstorm blowing through. Seconds later, the water stopped and the empty air was now filled with the sound of buzzing helicopter blades. A rope ladder descended, Chris hanging onto it.

Chris stepped down next to where Heather and Rio were; both girls were shivering, clutching themselves and glaring heatedly at him. He just flashed a smile at them and folded his arms behind his back.

"Looks like somebody's attempt to recreate the water chair scene from Flash Dance wasn't very successful..." he said, snickering.

"Very funny, Chris," Heather growled.

"Your solution to planting dynamite in the warehouse was spilling water on everybody?" Rio cried, her eyes flashing. "I'm calling Lana-"

"You have to play by _my _rules, New Courtney," Chris said, waggling a warning finger in Rio's face. "Lana's not playing babysitter here, so you're on your own."

Glaring, Rio snapped forward and tried to bite Chris' finger just as he pulled it away.

"Quit trying to break up the cat fight, Chris!" somebody called out. "It's good for ratings!"

That voice made a shiver run down Heather's spine. She turned around and, of course, there was Blainely, trotting towards them. Blainely looked a bit different; she was wearing a short black dress instead of her trademark red one with a pair of black heels. Her hair was styled differently, too, but change in appearance or not, she was still the same irritating and nerve grinding Blainely.

"Who...? What?" Chris cried, staring at Blainely, one of his eyes twitching. "What the hell are _you _doing here?"

"The producers didn't tell you?" Blainely queried, pretending to look surprised, then laughing. "Oh...you are so clueless! Just stand in the corner and look pretty, okay? We'll get along just fine if you keep in mind who the _real _star of season 5 is!"

"Real star? That'd be me," Chris barked back heatedly, folding his arms and glaring. "_You'll _be the one standing in the background looking pretty...You're already dressed for the part."

"Could you be any more _sexist_?" Blainely screeched, losing her composure. Heather and Rio watched with wide eyes as Blainely rushed towards Chris and nonchalantly kicked him in the balls. Chris crumpled to the floor, groaning, tears collecting at the edges of his eyes.

"You go girl!" Rio cheered.

Glaring at Rio, Heather ran over towards where Chris was lying and knelt down next to him. "Come on, Chris! Get back up!"

By now, the other contestants had walked over and were observing the scene, whispering amongst themselves, pointing and laughing.

"That settles it," Blainely bragged, flipping her hair and posing triumphantly. "I'm the main host for _Total Drama K-O_ and there's _nothing_ you can do about it."

Grunting and gritting his teeth, Chris forced himself to stand back up; Heather helped him climb back up, staring over at Rio who had a knowing look on her face. When Chris was standing back up, Heather backed off and joined the other contestants.

"Kick her ass!" she howled.

The other contestants echoed Heather, cheering for either Chris or Blainely. Curiously, Heather picked Alejandro out of the crowd; he stood by himself, arms folded and a solemn look on his face. He wasn't cheering for either Chris or Blainely. Biting her lip, Heather forced herself to look away from him. Rio's words echoed through her mind and she couldn't help remembering that intense look of longing she'd seen on Alejandro's face. Closing her eyes and blowing out a breath, Heather decided that she wasn't going to let any of her lingering feelings or sentimentality get in the way; her first goal this season was to get Alejandro voted off as soon as possible...

By now, Chris and Blainely were viciously kicking and punching each other. Blainely tackled Chris to the floor and started pounding at him with the heel of her shoe; he reached up and started tugging at her hair. She screamed and tried to knee him in the crotch again, but Chris rolled out of the way before she could.

Somehow, Chris rolled out from under Blainely and back onto his feet. Then he grabbed her hair again, pulling her up off of the floor and viciously yanking it. Blainely shrieked bloody murder; the contestants were roaring like spectators at the Roman coliseum.

"Did you really think you could win a fight against _me_?" Chris yelled.

Before Blainely could reply, somebody somersaulted through the air and snapped a kick at Chris' wrist, making him let go of Blainely's hair. The somebody landed and planted herself in-between Chris and Blainely, holding up her hands in a gesture to keep them from trying to pummel the other again. Heather's eyes widened when she recognized that the person interceding the fight was the same intern that had led her to the warehouse.

Suddenly, Chef stepped out of the shadows, followed by the camera crew.

"Are you two going to make peace or does Kayla have to stand there all day?" he demanded, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow.

"Get her out of the way so I can rip him to pieces!" Blainely cried out in a high, shrill voice.

"Kayla," Chef prompted and the intern nodded in response. Kayla kicked Blainely's feet out from under her and pulled her into a restraining hold. Furiously, Blainely struggled to get out of the intern's hold, but Kayla was surprisingly strong for her short stature and small size.

"If we paid interns, you'd be getting a raise," Chris commented admiringly; Kayla nodded mutely in response.

At another nod from Chef, Kayla turned towards the contestants and barked: "Sit down, you bunch of maggots! Nothing more to see here."

Her voice oozed with authority and power; the contestants went and sat back down on the bleachers where they'd all been originally, followed by Chris, Chef, the camera crew, and Kayla who was keeping Blainely in a tight hold.

"Welcome to _Total Drama K-O_!" Chris announced as if nothing had just happened in the last ten minutes. "For your information..._I_ planted the dynamite in here."

Everybody gasped and a bunch of angry whispers and protests rose up. Heather's eyebrows shot up. Duncan stood up and gave Chris the finger.

"Are you trying to _kill us_?" LeShawna and Jose cried in unison.

"If you liked that, just wait until you see the first challenge for this season," Chris replied, snickering. "And remember...the prize is _three_ million dollars! But, before I back to that...There are _no teams_ this season!"

He let this fact sink in, watching everyone's reaction. Heather could feel everyone staring at her and she could sense that they were turning their laser eye vision on Alejandro, Jose, and Rio, too. After season 3, the other contestants were anything but stupid; of course they knew exactly who to eliminate from the game first. Now the essential question was: Which one of the four of them was going to get eliminated first?

"Instead, you'll be competing _as couples_," Chris went on. "There's a reason why all of you were specifically brought back for this season...There's nothing that drives viewers more crazy on reality TV than romance and drama!"

This comment made Heather's stomach start sinking like quick sand; she sneaked a look over at Alejandro. The same thought had gone through his mind because he was looking back at her. From the way his eyes flashed and the slight frown, she could tell he was just as unhappy about the notion as she was.

"I'm sure you're all fully aware of who you're competing with," Chris said, smiling.

All around Heather and Alejandro, the other couples seemed happy and contented with this set-up. She and Alejandro were the only two that would be facing any kind of friction or resistance.

"Of course, this means you'll be voting off other couples instead of individuals," Chris continued. "The decision has to be unanimous between the two of you. You'll be voting in front of that camera, over there-" he pointed to a cheap camera on a tripod pointing at a sloppily set-up backdrop featuring this season's logo-"And...that's also the confessional. If you haven't noticed, there's several different warehouses here. Each one has a different challenge and there's a similar set-up for the confessionals, there, too."

Chris took a deep breath, then folded his arms. Feeling her heart jump a little, Heather leaned forward, waiting for Chris to announce the challenge. Just as he was about to announce it, though, Blainely scuttled back onto the scene after somehow escaping Kayla.

"Let's see what's behind curtain number 1!" Blainely announced, dramatically gesturing to the gigantic curtain on the other side of the room.

Like a bunch of puppets being controlled by a puppet master, all of the contestants turned and watched the curtains sweep aside. Beyond, there were several bright glints of metal in the shadows. As the light grew brighter, the set-up for the challenge was finally revealed: there was a long line of sharp metal pendulums swaying crazily back and forth; to the left and right of the line of pendulums were two square pools with piranhas hopping up and arcing through the air, flashing their wicked, sharp teeth; and, as if all of that weren't enough, there were three guillotines placed precariously throughout the set-up. The guillotines looked extremely easy to spring.

"You'll all have ten minutes to come up with a musical number and a dance," Blainely went on, not giving any time for the full effect of the challenge to sink in. "Not only does the dance have to be beautiful and well-executed enough to impress Chef, you'll have to survive the _death trap_!"

"Or...off with your head!" Chris added, making a cutting motion along his neck with his thumb and index finger.

"Hey...I wanted to make that comment!" Blainely complained.

"Beat you to it," Chris snapped back with a smirk.

The two started to bicker back and forth and Chef stepped onto the set, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. The contestants were staring blankly at Chris and Blainely, waiting for one of them to say what to do next.

"Go!" Chef barked, waving his hand at them.

Everyone started speaking quickly and earnestly to each other, making plans. Feeling awkward, Heather looked over at Alejandro, then down at her feet. She could swear that's where her heart and all of her other entrails had flocked to...

"Alright," Alejandro said a moment later, getting Heather's attention. "I hate you and you hate me...but we have to work together."

"...You already have a plan worked out, don't you?" she asked; she could see the gears and cogs turning in his brain just from the way his keen green eyes flashed.

"Do you remember when we did the tango on top of a moving train?" Alejandro asked, raising an inquisitive brow. "You were best partner I've ever had..."

As soon as he said that, Heather felt her cheeks flare up as she blushed. He blushed slightly, too, gritting his teeth as he looked like he was fighting back some sort of memory or emotion.

"We're dancing the tango. Got it," Heather prompted, eager to move beyond the building awkwardness.

Alejandro smiled slightly. "I have the perfect song picked out, too. We both know that Chef has a secret feminine side so...we'll have to go a little bit out of the comfort zone here."

"I'm already out of my comfort zone," Heather snapped back sarcastically. "So, what song do you have in mind?"

Taking a deep breath, Alejandro leaned in and whispered the name of the song in her ear. Unbidden, she felt her heart fly a little and as if her insides were being tickled by a feather, but she quickly pushed the feelings away. She folded her arms and fixed Alejandro with a skeptic stare.

"Are you serious?"

"I'd rather lick a toad than dance with you," Alejandro replied cruelly, giving her a cold stare. "But...I don't have much choice now, do I?"

Kayla stepped out of the warehouse and into the bright sunshine, running a hand through her hair and desperately wishing that it was night instead of day. She missed the full moon like she'd miss a chopped off limb.

Snorting, she glared at the sun and then fished around in her jeans pocket until she pulled out a tiny ear bud that she clipped into her ear. Tapping her foot, she waited until the ear bud picked up on the frequency she wanted.

"Agent 1?" a tinny voice said. "Why are you calling me? Do you want to blow your cover?"

"I need you to report something to Master," she replied, frowning. "You told me to keep an eye on Alejandro...There's been a slight complication that's come up."

"He's already trying to betray Master , isn't he?" the voice on the other end sighed, sounding very irritated.

"Yeah, I suppose you could call it that..." she said, furrowing her brows.

"Continue keeping an eye on him," the voice instructed. "I'll get back to you when I have further instructions from Master."

After that, the communication was cut off and as soon as Kayla pulled the ear bud out, it disintegrated into dust. She sighed, rubbing her forehead and thinking longingly of chasing a little bunny rabbit or a tasty squirrel. The full moon was coming soon; she could feel it and the last thing she wanted was to be stuck on the set of this stupid show at the beck and call of Chef. She hated being his "apprentice."

Clenching her fists, Kayla stepped back into the warehouse. Chris and Blainely were probably fighting with each other like four-year-olds again and she was going to have to break it up..._again_.


	4. Episode 1 Part 2: Un Baile Con Muerte

Episode 1, Part 2: Un Baile Con Muerte

**October 1, 2012-Total Drama Executive Building**

Renard pulled the raven haired, blue eyed vice president of the Total Drama reality series closer. Her name was Miranda Custard, an overworked workaholic in her 40s going through a mid life crisis. She was his "secret contact" at Total Drama; her lips were a secret spilling faucet as long as Renard had her wrapped around his finger.

His hot breath blew across her lips and nose. From the way Miranda's eyes widened, Renard could tell that she hadn't had any "action" like this for a long time. And she was craving it as badly as an addicted smoker wanted cigarettes after a long hellish week without even one.

Indulging her, Renard pulled part of her business jacket away from her bare, slender neck and kissed her; at the same time, he ran his index finger down her spine. A slight smile flew onto his lips as she moaned and sighed with pleasure. To think, more than ten years ago he was a skinny, undesirable, acne ridden nerd and now, he had the power to seduce any woman he pleased. A power he didn't use very often, but he still knew it was an ability in his arsenal nonetheless.

"Take me into the elevator," Miranda begged. "Now...please..."

In reply, Renard started kissing her up the neck to her chin. Just as he was about to kiss her on the lips, the ear piece in his ear crackled. He stopped fondling Miranda for a brief second as a Scottish accented voice cried in his ear incoherently. Heart racing and pulse pumping, Renard listened, flexing his fingers as his mind started to multitask between his current task and plans for later on in the day.

"Is something wrong, Theodore?" Miranda asked, her voice laced with her obvious impatience.

"No..." Renard replied coolly, leaning in and kissing her passionately. Still kissing, he swooped her up into his arms and then made his way to the elevator down the hallway.

**October 1, 2012-Set of Total Drama K-O**

All of the other contestants had scattered across the huge expanse of the warehouse like ants. They were all practicing dance moves of some kind, coaching each other or critiquing. Alejandro had led Heather behind the bleachers and was almost a little unnerved by how much shadow they were bathed in, despite the fact that it was bright daylight outside.

Alejandro could feel his knees trying to wobble and collapse out from underneath him as he led Heather through a brief run through of tango moves; he was more aware of his hand on her waist and her hand on his shoulder, and their close proximity than he really wanted to be. So far he'd been functioning proficiently, but then he accidentally stepped on Heather's foot.

"Ow! What the hell?" she snapped, angrily.

Exhaling sharply, Alejandro wrenched himself away from her and folded his arms. He could feel Heather's confusion and anger like a wave as he turned away so that she was only seeing his back. All he wanted to do right now was slink into a bed and sleep. Or run away from this set and all of this crap. Just something, anything to calm himself down.

This was like something out of a deranged nightmare: Not only was he waiting for a mad scientist to contact him with further information about a crazy revenge scheme, he was also competing in Total Drama again; he was in a mandatory alliance with Heather _and _he was competing against Jose. The tension, the frustration, it was all mounting on him and crushing him like a mountain.

Counting backwards in his head and taking several deep breaths, Alejandro tried to calm himself down.

"Hey...shouldn't we be practicing?" Heather demanded, tapping his shoulder. "Clock's ticking!"

"That it most certainly is," Alejandro barked bitterly, still not turning around.

"Come on, then!" Heather cried, grabbing his hand. In response, Alejandro yanked his hand back away and turned around to face her, giving her the most intense death glare he could. It actually had some effect; Heather's eyes widened and she took a few tentative steps backward.

"Sorry..." she muttered, raising her hands in surrender.

"I just have a lot on my plate right now," Alejandro said, trying to be calm and level when he was anything but. "I-"

"We're in the exact same boat!" Heather cut him off. "But you don't see _me_ complaining!"

"You _are _complaining," Alejandro said, smirking a little. He just couldn't help goading her; he was so wound up and frustrated that he didn't feel like being the calm one or the person that would make compromises right now.

That response made Heather's mouth open a little. She looked like she was ready to launch into an argument. Instead, surprisingly, she gritted her teeth and made a visible effort to restrain herself. She closed her eyes, swallowed, and took a deep breath. Suddenly, she surprised Alejandro by grabbing his hand, pulling him close to her and putting her other hand on his waist.

"Let's just get back to work," she sighed, closing her eyes.

What she'd just done...was exactly how Alejandro would have expected _himself _to respond. As the clock kept counting down, Heather aggressively led Alejandro through the tango. He tried to take the lead a few times, but ended up backing down when Heather whipped him around in a tight spin or lowered him in a dip, just barely keeping his head from hitting the concrete floor.

Alejandro was actually kind of relieved when Chris called out: "TIME'S UP!"

All of the contestants crept out from where they'd been practicing and wandered back towards the bleachers. When Alejandro and Heather came out from underneath the bleachers, Alejandro noticed Duncan wiggling his eyebrows at him and making mocking expressions. Still miffed and frustrated, Alejandro glared and then flipped the bird at Duncan; Duncan just laughed merrily. As he sat back down, Alejandro made a short mental note that Duncan was now another target on his quickly growing list of enemies to gain revenge against.

"Ready to know who the first..._victims_ are?" Chris asked once everybody was seated, wearing a vicious smile. Surprisingly, Blaineley was wearing a conspiratorial smirk, looking like Chris' partner in crime here.

Everybody looked at the challenge, pretty much everybody except for Duncan and Gwen nervous. Before Chris could announce the couple that had probably been handpicked by him and Blaineley, Duncan and Gwen stood up and practically stampeded down the bleachers, right over towards Chris and Blaineley. "US!" they both shouted at the same time, and giving each other a high five.

"They're not really fighting the Goth stereotype...It's the guillotines that drew them in," Heather whispered to Alejandro. "They both like sharp shiny things."

Even though he hated her guts, Alejandro couldn't help sniggering with her at her remark.

"Duncan's really lucky that both Gwen _and_ Courtney like sharp shiny things," Alejandro whispered back, raising an eyebrow. "Because that's the _only_ thing he has going for him, if you catch my drift..."

Heather's eyes widened and she was silent for a long moment. Then she rocked back, laughing boisterously and loud; she clamped her hand over her mouth in an attempt to hide it, but it wasn't doing her any good. Everybody was staring at the two of them. Heather quickly calmed herself down, smiling awkwardly as her pupils darted back and forth. She tried to keep herself from bursting out laughing again, especially since both Duncan and Gwen were staring at them, confused and oblivious.

Eventually, they turned back around. Alejandro leaned back as much as he could, smiling in a smug and strangely self-satisfied way.

"I _was_ going to say Cody and Sierra..." Chris sighed. "But I guess you two can go first."

As Duncan and Gwen walked over and prepared to start, a small whimper rippled across the air. Alejandro turned around and saw Cody, pale as a ghost and sucking his thumb; Sierra was holding him close, crushing him against her bosom.

Alejandro chuckled under his breath, feeling kind of sorry for Cody. An entire year or so had passed since he and Sierra had first met and she was still stuck to him like glue...And he probably still-

Suddenly, Cody pulled his thumb out of his mouth, turned towards Sierra and just full-on kissed her. He whispered in her ear and she blushed slightly, nodding.

That made Alejandro's eyes jump to the size of bowling balls and he turned back around, trying not to let himself be scarred for life by the scene he'd just witnessed. Every moment that passed seemed to be showing him more and more how much the world around him had changed. And all of these changes were just the beginning...

A huge lump formed in his throat and he looked sideways at Heather. Away from her, he'd been so dead set on gaining vengeance, but right now, he could feel a small poke of indecision at the very rim of his mind. He looked away from Heather, not daring to let the thought go on; he couldn't even let himself start thinking that way. It would only complicate things that much more.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud blast of guitars and drums: Alejandro vaguely guessed that the song playing was "American Idiot" by Green Day. An intern scrambled to turn a great big spotlight onto the two of them, drowning Duncan and Gwen in a pale yellow halo; the two had their hands locked together, and their postures indicated bravado and supreme confidence.

Two more bars of music played, then the two of them broke apart and ran off to the left and right. Both of them started racing along the fringe of where the challenge was set up, out of sight for close to twenty seconds or so. Then, with a running start, Duncan reappeared and ran up the frame of a guillotine, making a huge display of flipping backwards and then scuttling across the floor.

He sprawled across the ground, his fingers touching the very rim of one of the pools of piranhas. That's when Gwen re-entered, running as fast as she could manage and then leaping right over Duncan. Then she turned around and pulled him back up onto his feet mere nanoseconds before his fingers could be chomped off by the piranhas in the pool.

The rest of their routine was more of Duncan pulling off Parkour type moves, continuing to narrowly dodge piranhas as well as purposefully sticking himself under guillotine blades and just barely missing having his head chopped clean off. All the while, Gwen pretty much ran in and out of the scene, either helping Duncan up or directing attention from herself onto Duncan.

Halfway through, the song was cut off. Duncan stopped in mid-stride, precariously hovering above the piranha tank. Just as he was about to slip and fall in, Gwen yanked him away just in time. Both of them scattered out of the challenge area and Duncan marched right up to where Chris and Blaineley were seated in fold-up chairs, just a few feet away from the bleachers. The two hosts looked bored; Blaineley even made a big show out of inspecting her nails and yawning.

"What the hell?" Duncan cried, raising both of his hands.

Chef appeared ominously out of the shadows, followed by Kayla who was wielding a wooden baseball bat.

Alejandro hadn't even stopped to wonder where the music was coming from, but looking in the direction of where Chef and Kayla had come from, apparently there was a sound studio located in this rundown warehouse, too.

"Your skills at parkour are...impressive," said Chef with a modest shrug. "But the challenge is _dancing_, not sports. Plus, Gwen was _barely_ involved! You were supposed to be working as a _team_, not like a peddler and a circus monkey!"

Chef's comment made Alejandro laugh; he could just imagine Duncan wearing a tiny red fez, vest, and pants, dancing back and forth with a plastic cup while Gwen played an accordion. Though, even if Alejandro agreed with Chef, he personally thought Duncan should have been able to perform through the entire song. A closet fan of parkour, Alejandro kind of envied Duncan for his professional moves and skills, but had immensely enjoyed watching him as well.

It was obvious that Duncan wanted to argue with Chef, but Gwen whispered something in his ear and pulled lightly at his arm. Duncan rolled his eyes and said some quiet, but probably sarcastic, comment back and ended up walking back towards the bleachers with Gwen.

"Chef...what do you rank that performance?" Blaineley asked, swooping over to him, a microphone in her hand.

"3.5," Chef said when she raised the microphone towards him. "And that's me being nice."

Alejandro could hear Duncan growl angrily in response.

Moments later, Chris appeared next to Blaineley and casually plucked the microphone out of her hand, eliciting a glare from her in response. "Next victims..." he started. "You know who you are."

He raised a challenging eyebrow and motioned to the intern manning the spotlight. It turned towards the bleachers, blinding several of the contestants and making them complain, then rested right on Cody and Sierra. Unlike his initial reaction, Cody had a determined and brave look on his face. He stood up, appearing taller than he actually was, took Sierra's hand and marched down the bleachers.

As the two of them marched towards the challenge, Alejandro could feel his jaw drop. This Cody was nothing like the one he'd known as an acquaintance in season 3; he was...different.

Cody shouted something incoherent and a moment later, a techno like electric beat started throbbing through the room. (Alejandro didn't recognize the song, but he suspected it was something off of the pop charts from 2011). By now, Cody had grabbed Sierra and was holding her so close they might as well have been joined at the hip. He was tapping his foot and as soon as singing started, he pulled away and fell right to the floor in a perfectly executed splits.

Throughout the rest of the song, he and Sierra carefully wound between the obstacles, Sierra performing a variation of a slap dance while Cody became a blur break dancing. Somehow, despite their dance moves being completely different, the two of them had found a way to make it work. Alejandro found himself so impressed and captivated by their dancing that he wasn't even listening to the generic pop song they'd chosen. Too early, the song stopped and Cody and Sierra had moved their way back to the front of the warehouse. Cody leaned against Sierra, shooting one finger at the air while Sierra smiled, blushing, showing off a pair of peace signs.

The bleachers erupted with loud cheering and applauds. A few people were shouting "PARTY ROCK!" over and over. Curiously, Alejandro turned to look at Heather; she was one of the people hollering and carrying on. Somebody wolf whistled before Chef reappeared.

"Easily a 7.5," he said, giving Cody and Sierra a thumbs up. "Good job! Nicely executed dance moves, but...there wasn't quite enough involving dodging the obstacles."

Some of the contestants in the bleachers booed; one of them being Heather, much to Alejandro's surprise. This just resulted in a casual wave from Chef; Cody shrugged and smiled, then he and Sierra wandered back up onto the bleachers.

"_Alejandro!_" Heather hissed in a whisper.

Alejandro turned and looked at her, his eyebrow raised. Then she jabbed her finger to the left; he looked towards where she was pointing and saw Jose and Rio whispering to each other and laughing. Both of them looked so smug it made Alejandro want to punch both of their faces in. He pushed back the bile rising in his throat and turned to look at Heather, somewhat irritated now.

"What?" he demanded.

"Jose has a knife in his pocket," she replied. "He showed it to Rio during Cody and Sierra's performance...I think they plan on trying to go next and sabotage part of the challenge."

"Smart..." Alejandro murmured, stroking his chin and looking irritated that he even admitted that out loud.

"We gotta stop them," Heather continued, leaning forward a little in her seat.

Alejandro held out his arm and stopped her. He looked at her through slanted eyes. "If I know Jose, he's waiting until it's our turn to go. He thinks _we're_ his biggest challenge...Considering Duncan and Gwen went before Chris' pre-determined order, I suggest we do the same. Then Jose can't-"

"We'll go next!" Jose's voice called out cheerfully.

Alejandro cursed in Spanish under his breath. "He was already three steps ahead of me..." he muttered.

"I was wrong...He's not underestimating anybody!"

"That doesn't mean we still can't beat him!" Heather replied, touching Alejandro's wrist lightly and smiling encouragingly. "We'll crush them into the dirt."

Her words made Alejandro's heart glow like a candle; he could feel some kind of subdued warmth traveling through his veins and all over his body. So much he'd longed for her to say what she was now when they were on World Tour. And now that he was hearing them, he smiled mutely, fighting against the somewhat bitter blizzard of thoughts knocking at the nether regions of his brain.

Invigorated, he grabbed her wrist and made a move to stand-

"We want to go next, too!" called another voice.

Alejandro's eyes widened; he was hovering in between sitting back down or standing up again. A second later, Heather made the decision for them: she pulled him back down onto the bleachers.

Then the two of them looked to see who had stood up to face Jose and Rio before they'd gotten a chance to.

Standing up, smiling like an intimidating pair of Olympic athletes, were Geoff and Bridgette. Alejandro noticed Jose trying to figure out whether he wanted to smirk or frown while Rio simply folded her arms and smiled as if she were a bright ray of sunshine. Rio even had the audacity to wink at Geoff; of course, this made Bridgette twitch a little, but she retained her calm, happy demeanor.

"Okay..." Chris looked at a loss in what to do with dealing with this new development.

Sly as a fox, Blaineley slithered in to take advantage of Chris' reluctance; she nabbed the microphone, smiling like the Devil himself. "Alright, this ought to be interesting!" she called out with a grand sweeping gesture. "Geoff and Bridgette, Jose and Rio, come on down!"

Both couples made their way slowly down the stairs. Bridgette and Rio were staring at each other in an "I'll kill you" kind of way while Jose tried to avoid making any eye contact with Geoff at all.

Once they stood at the start of the challenge, Bridgette and Jose yelled out the names of two different songs. When no song started playing after a few anxious seconds, Bridgette yelled out the name of another song before Rio or Jose had the chance to say something different.

Scratching his chin, Alejandro furrowed his brows and turned to look at Heather; she looked like a mix between concern and jealousy. Finally, she turned to look at him, her expression betraying that she was more worried than jealous. "Do they even stand a chance?" she cried.

"No..." Alejandro said somberly, shrugging and turning back to watch the scene unfold, expecting nothing but the worst. "But...maybe they'll distract Jose and Rio enough to keep them from sabotaging...too much."

Still frowning and pessimistic, Alejandro turned to watch the next scene unfold. "Howl" by Florence and the Machine poured through the air. Bridgette and Rio rammed into action, spinning their partners rapidly; Rio actually dipped Jose over the piranha pit and pulled him back just before he fell in. Glaring daggers at Bridgette, she next dragged Jose into an awkward flamenco, spinning deftly on the very balls of her feet, Jose just barely keeping up.

In response, Bridgette led Geoff several feet forward in a waltz-type move, unknowingly trudging right towards the line of guillotines. As soon as they reached the very first one, Bridgette just barely led Geoff into skirting around it. This continued around three or four more others and by then, Bridgette just fell into Geoff's arms, smiling up at him apologetically and letting him take up the lead.

Ferociously, Rio started spinning, purposefully towards the guillotines and actually stuck her head through the hole, pulling the string. Jose's eyes widened and he just barely pulled her out in time. He held her like a limp rag doll in his arms for a few brief moments, but immediately, Rio snapped herself upwards, pulled Jose close and then pulled them towards the edge of a pool of piranhas. They skirted the very edge of the pool, Rio keeping her eyes plastered to Jose's face.

All the while, Geoff had been leading Bridgette in a very basic waltz move. By complete accident, Bridgette bumped into Jose and Rio, knocking them into the piranha pool. Jose and Rio fell in with a huge splash, drops of water sailing through the air. Eagerly, the piranhas rushed in. Bridgette screamed and both she and Geoff immediately ducked down, holding out their hands to the unseen Jose and Rio. About a minute passed; Florence's voice pierced the air like a loud siren.

Sitting there, Alejandro clenched his fists on his knees and watched, jaw hanging open. He waited, with bated breath, his heart beat shrieking in his ears and his entire body awash with adrenaline. Seconds became minutes and each one felt way too long. Feeling tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, Alejandro leaped to his feet and screamed: "JOSEEE!" at the top of his lungs.

Just as he did, two figures came flying up out of the pool. Rio was carrying Jose in her arms, her ripped clothes and long hair fluttering out through the air. She had a completely manic smile on her face as she landed and put down a shell shocked Jose. Seeing Jose alive and so scared didn't give Alejandro the same sadistic delight that it had earlier. Now, all he could feel was an ethereal relief, mixed with a bizarre anger. He was still standing, the only thing he could hear being his heartbeat.

The song ended and Rio triumphantly dipped Jose, kissing him as everyone, even a bewildered Geoff and Bridgette, just looked on, not knowing what to make of the display in front of them...

After the showdown of Geoff and Bridgette v. Jose and Rio, nothing had really been as intense or exciting. Owen and Izzy had "performed" to Aqua's "Tarzan and Jane"; it was pretty much Izzy acting like a monkey while Owen chased her around the challenge, Owen tripping things and almost getting caught by them the entire time. Yet, despite their performance being similar to that of Duncan and Gwen-but this time there was nothing even close to dancing, Owen and Izzy had received an overall score of 6.8. Heather surmised that that was probably because of their particular song choice.

Then Harold and LeShawna had performed to some song by T-Pain, both of them free styling. They pretty much stayed near the very start of the challenge's obstacles. The two of them had received a score of 7.6; Heather suspected that Chef was a closet fan of the Total Drama Brothers and that was part of his bias for giving Harold and LeShawna a better score than Duncan and Gwen or Owen and Izzy.

So far, the highest score was Jose and Rio's; they'd defeated Geoff and Bridgette in their showdown. As the other performances had rolled by, Heather could feel Rio's smugness and feelings of superiority washing over everybody in the bleachers. Heather shot as voracious a look as she could up over her shoulder, directing it at Rio. Rio, still sopping wet, just shrugged her shoulders and smiled as charmingly as she could.

Heather felt herself clenching her fists. There _had_ to be some way to defeat Jose and Rio.

Gritting her teeth, she turned to look at Alejandro. She expected him to be just as infuriated as she was, but instead, he looked distant and worried, not like himself. He looked like he hadn't been paying any attention to what was currently going on, more like he was lost in his own thoughts.

Gently, Heather touched his shoulder. "Alejandro...?" she prompted.

Blinking a few times, he turned to look at her, frowning. "What? Is it our turn?" he asked, sounding slightly miffed.

"No," she replied. Before she could say anything else, he turned away again, furrowing his brows.

"Are you okay?" Heather asked before she could stop herself.

Still frowning, he turned to look at her. "No," he said curtly.

Heather grabbed his face and kept it in her hands, stopping him from looking away from her again.

"I know it's going to be awhile before this...alliance thing really works for us," she said in a measured, even tone. "But-"

Her breath hitched a little when Alejandro reached up and pulled her hands off of his face.

"I know what you're trying to do," Alejandro said in an emotionless voice. "We'll talk about it later, okay?"

"B-"

"Later," he insisted, raising his hand.

Reluctantly, Heather backed off and placed her hands between her legs. For a few moments she continued to stare at Alejandro, looking at his side profile, the way his nose kind of sloped downward like a toucan's beak. He was so handsome; there was something about him that had just drawn Heather toward him like a magnet. It'd been instant attraction, and had even been mutual attraction for awhile. Despite herself, Heather silently realized that even the events of World Tour and an entire year in-between hadn't been enough to douse that attraction. If anything, it felt even stronger...

Without warning, Heather was yanked out of her reverie by the song "Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows" rampaging through the empty space of the warehouse. Whipping her head around, Heather watched Lindsay bobbing back and forth with a ridiculously huge smile on her face, Tyler just smiling and putting up with it. This happy, ultimately awkward scene belonged at a homecoming dance on a poorly put together teen romcom show.

Where she'd been feeling kind of distant and lost a second ago, now she was trying to keep herself from laughing too loudly. She clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to fight back a giggle attack. After awhile, she could feel her cheeks starting to ache from so much laughing, and only about a minute or so had passed...

Just as the song ended, Lindsay wobbled a little bit. Then she tripped on her boot heel and by some weird stroke of bad luck, landed in the neck hole of the first guillotine in line. She was laughing, unaware of what had just happened. Tyler turned around and got caught up in staring at her rear, telling her that she'd done a good job. Heather's eyes widened when he took one step in the wrong direction...stepping right on the string that activated the guillotine.

Everything just drowned out in a loud, noiseless blur. Heather could feel her heart being squeezed by a giant boa constrictor in her chest. All of the air leaked out of her lungs, as if someone were stepping on them or had poked a hole in them.

Yet, the next thing she knew, Heather felt herself hugging someone close to her chest as tears exploded out of her eyes and ran down her face. She pulled whoever it was closer and started blubbering like a giant baby, trying desperately to block out the morbid images racing through her mind's eye.

"Heather! I can't breathe!" somebody complained.

Her eyes wrenching open, Heather pulled back and held the person she'd been hugging at arm's length. Lindsay was looking back at her with wide, shocked blue eyes. Innocent, gullible Lindsay. For a second, Heather couldn't believe it...Lindsay was alive! Tears started running out of her eyes again and Heather smiled, shaking her head and feeling her hair shake like a dog's tail.

"Why are you crying, Heather...?" Lindsay asked, blinking and confused.

"Because..." Heather just smiled and swallowed. "I'm sorry...And I...want to be your friend again."

"Okay!" Lindsay said happily, smiling wide. "You did just save my life!"

The words took Heather aback. Now it was her turn to be absolutely confused. Lindsay lunged at her and hugged her. Over Lindsay's shoulder, Heather saw everybody in the bleachers standing and cheering, clapping. All of them were smiling appreciatively, even admiringly at her. The reaction was the stuff of dreams for Heather; she never thought she'd see any of them react like this.

Suddenly, they all came rushing down from the bleachers. Lindsay pulled away and stood up. Harold and LeShawna hefted Heather off of the ground and up onto their shoulders.

"That was awesome, Heather!" LeShawna said.

"I knew there was good in you..." Harold echoed, smiling up at her.

"So...you do have some goodness buried in the depths of that black heart of yours after all," Duncan gibed, smirking.

Heather watched as Cody walked up to Chris, an eyebrow raised and his arms folded. "I think Heather should win this challenge!" He looked to the other contestants and a lot of them cheered and shouted in agreement.

Chris looked baffled. Blaineley pulled back from trying to steal his microphone, looking just as baffled. Instead of them giving an answer, Rio tramped her way in front of the group, fists perched on her hips, followed by a skeptical Jose.

"Jose and I almost died today today, too, but we _still_ performed!" she complained. "So should Alejandro and Heather..."

Cody looked like he was about to argue with them, but he stopped, thinking it over for a moment and then shrugging. Everybody then turned to Chris to get his verdict on the matter. By now, Chris had regained his bearings. "Alejandro and Heather still have to compete..." he said.

Heather was surprised to hear some disgruntled comments in the crowd as they put her back down. A lot of them thought and strongly believed that she should have won. As they all headed back towards the bleachers, away from her, Heather noticed Rio shooting her a challenging look over her shoulder; on the other side of the crowd, Lindsay and Tyler were shooting her approving and grateful looks.

Continuing to stand where she was, Heather grabbed one of her arms, blushing as she looked down at her feet. She was still trying to process everything that had just happened. Awkwardly, she reached up and started wiping her eyes with the back of her hand as a silly smile snaked across her face.

"Ready?" Alejandro asked.

Startled, Heather looked up and she felt her entire face turn red. He'd just appeared out of nowhere!

"Yeah..." she whispered.

The word barely came out of her mouth as Alejandro pulled her towards him and shifted right into the tango stance. "El Tango de Roxanne," Alejandro called out in a loud, clear voice.

The first few instruments in the song were so quiet, like a soft, whimpering whisper. Looking up into Alejandro's face, Heather felt like a bucket of ice cubes had been spilled down her shirt; he looked so solemn, so serious. He waited patiently, while she felt her heart start to yo-yo from her feet to her chest. Just when she couldn't wait another moment, the violins started.

Alejandro stomped and started moving forward. Befuddled, Heather found herself stepping backwards, letting him lead the way even though she couldn't really see where they were headed exactly. Suddenly, he propelled her into a spin, making her feel like a whirligig as she passed by the wooden frame of a guillotine. Over and over, Alejandro led her past the line of guillotines, skirting the pools of piranhas. The entire time, he had such a focused and serious look on his face. Somehow, Heather found herself more intimidated and frightened by him than the obstacles.

When they reached the end of the obstacles, Heather could see the vicious flames skittering and leaping in Alejandro's eyes. Grunting, she felt a vehement urge to take the lead. Pulling herself away from him, she took one step back, then approached him again, grabbing his hand and wrapping her other arm around his waist.

She forced him to take a step forward and could feel her body unintentionally press against his; she could feel his abs underneath his shirt. Ignoring it, she whirled him around into a spin and started leading him back through the obstacles again. As they came closer to the start of the challenge, the music was getting more angry and dramatic; she could even feel Alejandro trying to fight her to gain back his role in the dance routine.

They barely reached the beginning of the challenge just as the last, closing notes of the song started. Just as the song drew to a close, Heather let Alejandro take the lead role again, albeit reluctantly, and then felt her heart flutter a little as he lowered her into a dip. She was mere inches above the floor, but all she could focus on was Alejandro's face.

Strands of his hair were hanging in her face and their noses were touching. They were so close that she could lean up into his face and kiss him on the lips if she wanted to. The longer he kept her like that, the anger in his eyes faded and started to melt into something else. Heather could feel herself blushing again, feel the electricity snapping in the air between them.

"THAT WAS BEAUTIFU-UL-UL!" Chef's voice boomed in the background. "You two win...you two win..."


	5. Episode 2 Part 1: Ma Petite Fleur

Episode 2 Part 1: _Ma Petite Fleur_

**October 1, 2012-Miranda Custard's House**

"Good night, Miranda," Renard whispered tenderly in the woman's ear.

As he pulled away, he saw her eyes were wide and shining, her lips drawn up into a huge smile. Leaning out of her door, she reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, pulling lightly.

"Please stay..." she begged.

"I have to go," Renard replied, unaffected by the way she batted her long lashes at him. "I'll be back later on this week...all right?"

"Sooner than later, please, " Miranda cooed, letting go of his sleeve. Then she blew a kiss at him and closed the door.

Renard turned and started walking away, gritting his teeth and pulling at the blue wool scarf he was wearing around his neck. In his mind's eye he could see Miranda wandering over to her window, pulling those ridiculous polka dot curtains aside and watching him walk away. As he reached the end of the block, he could just imagine her cupping her chin in her palm and sighing. She was falling in love with him; he could tell by the way her eyes sparkled and how excited she was every time she saw him. Any man would be lucky to have the successful and attractive Miss Miranda Custard...Well, if he could stand how much more of her time was spent at work than with him...

But, of course, that didn't bother Renard at all.

Taking a deep breath, Renard felt a small prickle of guilt at the fact that he didn't feel anything for her. He could pretend as well as Alejandro, but the more and more he realized how deeply Miranda felt for him, the less his heart was in the act. He had to break it off with Miranda...and soon. Not because she'd eventually find out his true feelings and gain lots of emotional scars...Because she'd outlived her usefulness in unintentionally giving him information he needed to execute his plans.

Biting his lip, Renard waited until he could taste the iron of his blood on his tongue. No more thoughts of Miranda and her menial part in his grand scheme. He had to focus; he was a monster. He pretty much had to be to gain vengeance on Chris...

**October 1, 2012-Tiara Hotel, Alejandro's Room**

"One thousand..." Alejandro muttered as he stopped doing push-ups and rolled back up onto his feet. Blowing out a breath, he walked across the room to the canopy bed on the other end. He collapsed back onto the golden colored satin sheets and looked up at the curtain spread out over the four poles protruding from the four corners of the bed. Silver fleur de lis patterns covered the curtain overhead; simple flower patterns etched in a modest burnt sienna were interspersed in-between.

It was a bizarre pattern, yet it worked in a very peculiar way...

Alejandro rolled over, letting his hair fall into his face. The material of the sheets felt nice against his bare chest; he sighed and closed his eyes, smiling as he listened to the tattoo of his own heart. If only he had a weight set or something to work with right now. Working out was a wonderful venue to blow off steam and frustration. After how terrible today had been, he didn't want to think anymore. He just wanted to get so tired that he could fall back in bed and fall asleep as soon as he hit the pillows.

One problem with that plan, though: his mind was still spinning, faster than a Tilt-a-Whirl ride.

Furious, he punched the mattress and rolled up into a sitting position, opening his eyes again. Just as he did, there was a knock at his hotel room door.

Mumbling a few cuss words under his breath, Alejandro stood up and padded over to the door. As soon as he pulled it open, he found Heather standing there, hands perched on her hips.

Brilliant. She was just the person he _didn't_ want to see right now!

And, as if things couldn't get any worse, he knew she was staring at his pectoral and chest muscles. He could even notice a tiny bead of drool hanging on her lower lip. It took a few seconds, but she eventually realized that he knew she was staring at him like a dog at a butcher's meat counter.

"Put on a shirt!" she cried, wringing her hands into tight fists.

"If I'd done that, you wouldn't be able to size me up like a rack of ribs, now would you?" Alejandro replied with a smirk. Since Heather had decided that she was going to bother him right now, then he was going to make her pay a hefty price tag for it. "We both know how sumptuous and juicy I am!"

Heather rolled her eyes and stomped into the room, uninvited, while Alejandro picked his shirt up off of the floor and pulled it over his shoulders.

"Don't flatter yourself," Heather snapped as she slammed the door behind her.

"_Au contraire_, _ ma petite fleur_," Alejandro purred as he sidled over towards her.

"Don't even try flirting with me in French," Heather warned, raising an eyebrow. "I won't be impressed; I know French, too. Fluently and probably way better than you."

"_Vraiment_?" Alejandro leaned in towards her and raised an eyebrow. "_V__ous êtes la fille la plus belle au monde. Je t'aime du fond de mon coeur...Embrassez-moi...S__'il vous plaît__. Votre baiser est ma vie...Non, vous êtes ma vie, mon amour_."

The entire time he spoke, Alejandro made dramatic, Shakespearean gestures and tried to be as over-the-top as possible. He was trying to portray a desperate, lovesick Romeo. As soon as he finished, he smirked at Heather, waiting for her reaction.

"_Très drôle,_" Heather replied, folding her arms, shaking her head and frowning.

"Alright, _genio_," Alejandro gibed, poking her shoulder. "What did I just say?"

" 'You are the most beautiful girl in the world'," Heather started translating in a very bored, monotone voice. " 'I love you from the bottom of my heart. Kiss me, please. Your kiss is my life. No, _you_ are my life, my love.' "

"French _is_ considered the language of love!" Alejandro mused, leaning in close enough to Heather that his nose was touching hers. Even though he was just pulling Heather's leg and trying his damnedest to make her leave, he could feel his heart start fluttering in his chest.

"I'm not in here to goof around!" Heather spewed, her brows two angry, slanted lines. "We won today's challenge. I want to keep that up, so I thought I'd...make amends."

"...Make amends?" Alejandro backed away from her and frowned, his eyes wide. It only took a few seconds for things to sink in, what Heather was trying to do. "Do you _really_ think you can make up for breaking my heart into a million tiny pieces?"

What he said made Heather's eyes grow to the size of bowling balls. "Wow..."

"The Total Drama World Tour finale was the single worst day of my life!" Alejandro yelped at her, gritting his teeth. "At first I thought that the worst part was getting run over by lava and almost getting stuck being a robot for the rest of my miserable life, but then I really started thinking about it..."

Feeling his anger rising, Alejandro took a step towards Heather and grabbed her wrists. He glared at her in the most icy, glacial way that he could. It was effective; he could see Heather's eyes widening, see her pupils shrinking in fear.

"All of that could have been prevented," he growled in a low, vicious whisper. "...Heather, I'd never fallen as deeply or any more head over heels with anyone than I did with you. That was the closest I've ever come to love at first sight; you held my heart in such a iron clad vise. You were my weakness, my Achilles' heel, but even though I did fight it at first, I couldn't fight the feelings forever..."

He took a staggered breath, hearing his heart roaring in his ears like a wave now. "I got to the point where I couldn't choose between you and the money anymore; I didn't really want to, either. Heather, as much as you infuriated me or went against me, I couldn't help giving you second chances. Over and over and over again. I was willing to go against my most basic nature because I...fell in love and I...was really hoping you felt the same way..."

Feeling a bunch of painful memories burbling up, Alejandro took a deep breath. He felt like an invisible fist had grabbed his chest and was squeezing him relentlessly.

"I was planning on splitting the money with you, Heather!" Alejandro admitted, breathing hard.

He stopped his tirade and just looked at her, waiting for his words to soak in. A few seconds passed and Heather's surprised, shocked expression started to melt away into furrowed brows and confusion. She pursed her lips and took a deep breath. "Really...?" she asked in a strained whisper.

"Yes," Alejandro replied in a much calmer voice. "If you just would have let me finish kissing you, when I pulled away, I would have grabbed your doll and thrown both of them into the volcano..." He took a deep breath. "You would have had both me and fifty thousand dollars...I would have fought off Ezekiel and we'd escape the lava and...Well, I just told you how I wish that scene would have played out."

Sniffing, Alejandro let go of Heather's wrists and pulled away, backing up a few feet. Then he looked down at the cream colored carpeting. After letting all of his emotions gush out like a waterfall, he just couldn't meet Heather's eyes. The collective bitterness and sadness that had been building up inside of him for an entire year or so was at it's peak; he was numb to any other emotions right now.

"I don't know if it means anything, but...I haven't been able to stop thinking about you," Heather admitted. "Actually, you've been on my mind ever since that day...I...As soon as I got as far away from the volcano as I could and could think clearly, I did start looking for you, but you weren't there. I remember racing along the beach, looking for you, screaming your name at the sky. I...I was actually devastated when I saw a bunch of interns sticking you on a stretcher and carrying you away. I...I thought I'd never see-"

Suddenly, Heather stopped talking. The room became silent, the air full of awkward and emotional tension. When Heather didn't say anything else, Alejandro's head snapped up and he forced himself to look at her. She was gritting her teeth, her dark eyes glittering with tears. For a few seconds, he just stared at her and she stared back, desperately trying to scrub at her eyes with her fingers, but in the end, she just couldn't hold her feelings back.

Twin waterfalls started falling down her face and she cried out. She fell to her knees, sobbing and burying her face in her hands. Alejandro just stood there and stared, feeling strangely hollow, almost as if he were a third person omniscient observer, looking down on the scene with sympathetic eyes. The feeling broke a moment later and he found himself rushing towards her, pulling her up off of her knees and enveloping her in his arms; she didn't resist.

Everything started feeling ethereal and out-of-place. Despite having seen aliens and a cyborg in his lifetime, for some reason this one moment felt the most bizarre. Heather stayed buried against his chest for close to an entire minute, shaking and trying to calm down. Once she had at least a fourth of her grit back she wrenched herself away from him and started rubbing at her eyes again.

"Today's been way too emotional!" she complained. "Don't tell anyone I was just crying."

Alejandro raised a skeptic eyebrow. They'd just poured their emotions out to each other, close to making some sort of progress in their stilted and strange relationship, but she was already closing the door on that progress and trying to retreat to square 1 again...

"As I was saying, I want to make some kind of...amends to you," she said, trying to look business-like despite the fact that her eyes were red and watery. "I want to win that three million dollars. And since we're forced to work together, I guess...I might as well apologize and try...to compromise..." She tapped her forehead with her index finger. "You know what I'm saying!"

Frowning, Alejandro folded his arms and tried to stop his own inner tornado of emotions. "What _are_ you trying to say exactly?" he asked. "You're not being very concise or direct..."

"Well...for starters, I'm sorry," she said, her brows drawn together. "But, since I'm pretty sure that's not enough..." She sighed heavily. "Is there something I can do to show you that you can trust me at least for now...To cement our...'alliance'?"

Taking a deep breath, Alejandro started mulling over what she'd just said. He spent a full minute thinking about, letting the gears and cogs in his brain spin and whir. The final solution he came up to made his insides flutter a little and if his heart hadn't already been marching close to the speed of sound, it definitely was right now.

"Kiss me," Alejandro replied with a slight grin.

"What?" Heather yelped, startled. "Did I hear you right...?"

"Kiss me," Alejandro repeated, raising an eyebrow.

For a moment Heather was silent, one of her eyes twitching slightly and her lips trembling. From how she was reacting, Alejandro knew she was just as uncertain about this as he was. Before she could protest, he decided to explain his reasoning behind it.

"I'm not asking you to enjoy it," Alejandro replied. "It's just practice for if or maybe even, when an upcoming challenge might require us to..."

He left off the last part of his explanation, but Heather nodded, understanding; he didn't need to finish. Without saying anything else, she took a step closer towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning in until their noses were touching.

Now they were so close and Heather just made things that much worse, hesitating and staring at him with wide, vulnerable eyes. A small, kind of squealing noise escaped Heather's lips; she looked like she was having second thoughts. Alejandro could relate; he felt just as uncertain. But, just before either one could change their minds, Heather closed her eyes and took the plunge.

Her lips hit his like a missile. Two blinks and then he closed his own eyes, letting himself relax and trying to push his resisting thoughts to the very back of his mind. Thirty seconds passed and Heather hadn't pulled back. She was actually pulling him closer and tilting her head sideways, leaning more into him. Despite himself, Alejandro felt his arms leap up and wrap around her.

An experience like tasting forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, Alejandro was surprised at how many sparklers and fireworks took off and erupted in his brain. He really didn't want to stop or let go; he was actually restraining himself from sticking his tongue in Heather's mouth. The two minute mark was coming up quickly and Alejandro forced himself to push Heather away, to pull away from the kiss.

As soon as he did, he was surprised at how vehemently he was hit by a wave of regret. Trapped in between an unbidden spark of euphoria and waves of revulsion, he looked at Heather, watching as her face probably mirrored his own tumultuous reaction.

The desire to pull her back to him and start kissing her again struck Alejandro and he actually reached out, trying to grab her by the wrist. Instead of what he wanted, Heather turned tail and yanked open the door to the hotel room, racing back out into the hallway and slamming the door behind her again.

For some unexplainable reason, Alejandro just stood there, staring dumbly at the door. All of his emotions and the memories of the day rallied and marched around in his head, draining towards his feet. At the same time, Alejandro found himself mentally and physically exhausted.

Finally, Alejandro just shrugged out of his boots, pants, and shirt, climbed under the covers and within minutes fell into a very fitful and deep sleep.

Kayla's hair flew into her eyes, but she didn't make a move to push it away. She could feel the crescent moon bearing down on her, whispering that she only had to wait a little longer before she could transform into a wolf again. It was night time, a bunch of crystal stars scattered across a pitch black sky. Since the Tiara Hotel was located closer to the countryside, in a suburb hundreds of miles away from the gigantic city of L.A., the night was so much closer to being as exotic and beautiful as it could be out in the wild.

Gritting her teeth, Kayla swallowed, holding back a throaty growl. She had to focus on the task at hand. Currently, she was perched on the northernmost wall of the Tiara Hotel, clinging to the cement outcropping just below the window of Alejandro Burromuerto's room. Trying to be as silent and stealthy as possible, Kayla depended on her hearing to let her know what was going on within the hotel room.

For close to fifteen minutes, Kayla stayed where she was, paying close attention to everything she heard happen. The door opened closed, then Heather started speaking. Kayla's eyes widened as she heard every word of the conversation that passed. With each new word came a new nugget of information; her hunch about Alejandro getting closer and closer to betraying Master was coming closer and closer to fruition.

As Kayla sensed the conversation starting to come to a close, she decided to take a little bit of a risk: She hefted herself up and over the Tiara Hotel's outcropping, inching closer towards the window. From her new vantage point, Kayla realized that if Heather or Alejandro turned their heads in the direction of the window or even caught a glimpse of the window out of the corner of their eye, she'd be caught. And not only would her mission be in jeopardy, but her werewolf origins could be discovered, too.

They'd think: How else could a girl as small as her climb up a three story building, no stairs in sight, and get to where she was right here? Crawling out of another window in a nearby room, perhaps, but Kayla was pretty sure both Alejandro and Heather knew she wasn't in any room nearby-

Kayla shook her head to clear it. The two of them were so caught in up in staring at each other with angst filled eyes that they probably wouldn't even look anywhere near the window anyway.

Baring her teeth, she watched as they just stared at each other, said a few comments. Kayla felt like she was watching a ridiculous scene out of a teen sitcom. By now, she had to have enough information to give to Master about Alejandro, right?

She couldn't take anymore of this blasphemy; she was getting really impatient!

Suddenly, Kayla's patience paid off: She heard Alejandro say the words "Kiss me." Quickly, Kayla dug around in her jeans pocket and pulled out her iPhone. Oh, how much she hated it, but she pushed her ungodly distaste for it aside for the moment, flicked it on and tried to position the screen as well as she could. Her finger hovered above the camera button and she watched, breath bated, as Heather leaned in and kissed Alejandro. As soon as she snapped the picture, Kayla cringed at the sound her phone made, then ducked back underneath the outcropping.

Hopefully, Alejandro and Heather were so caught up in swapping spit that they hadn't heard anything.

Sucking in a breath, Kayla launched herself off of the wall and into the night time air. She propelled herself backwards into a flip and watched, face first, as she fell towards the Tiara Hotel parking lot below. Briefly, she smiled at the meandering thought that if a normal human attempted a leap like this, they'd end up splattered across the parking lot covered in a copious amount of blood. Dead.

Chuckling under her breath, Kayla rolled over again so that the heels of her shoes would be the first things to hit the ground. As she came closer to the ground, Kayla realized that she was just above a car; she was going way too fast to change her direction and land somewhere else.

Kayla ended up landing right on top of the car, her speed and impact causing the roof to cave in and crumple a little. Growling under her breath, Kayla easily bounced off of the top of the car to the ground. Shaking her head, she checked out the damage, idly wondering if the owner of the car would be able to pay off the damages. In the end, she shrugged, realizing that she really didn't care and wandered off to the opposite side of the parking lot.

Clicking her tongue, she looked across the street at the big, looming shapes of the warehouses. So many of the Total Drama contestants looked like they'd been close to peeing their pants at just the sight of some of those decrepit buildings and a few spiderwebs. Big bunch of babies. If Kayla had her way, she wouldn't be anywhere near here or society in general; most werewolves were bound and determined to keep their human lives going and wanted to find a cure for their lycanthropy. They even called being a werewolf a curse!

Kayla, on the other hand, embraced it wholeheartedly and hated when she wasn't in wolf form. She looked forward to every full moon like a human child looked forward to Christmas; she dreamed about hunting little animals and the wild forest every night. She hated being in society; she hated humans; she hated technology. Anything that was a world away from her preferred lifestyle.

Clenching her fists, Kayla wished that she wasn't under oath to Master; he'd saved her life and was even the mysterious, unknown leader of the wolf pack she belonged to. When Master had decided that he needed a stealthy "inside man" for his revenge plans, the pack had pointed right at Kayla, recommended her even. She despised them for it, felt bitterness towards Master for having to be surrounded by stupid, mushy humans and their big metal cities and society. But her loyalty was stronger than anything else; Kayla would rather die before she betrayed Master.

Just as she'd been thinking about him, her iPhone started ringing. Kayla lifted it up and an ironic half-smile crossed her face when a green icon flashed on the screen and then turned into the familiar, broad shouldered silhouette of Master himself.

"Hello, Agent 1," he said in a distorted, robotic-sounding voice. "After hearing what Agent 2 had to say about your report, I'd rather hear your report myself instead of through him."

"I don't like Agent 2," Kayla commented, gnashing her teeth. "Why can't I just talk to you directly all the time, Master?"

"You'll work with Agent 2 because I instructed you to!" Master snapped, making Kayla cringe a little.

"I'm sorry, Master-"

"Just give me your report," he demanded. "I don't like beating around the bush. You know that."

"Alejandro is being forced to work with Heather in the new season," Kayla said in a nondescript, informative voice. "A few minutes ago, I was monitoring his activity in his hotel room. Heather came in and it appears that they might become a team of some sort. They kissed each other, too."

"Excellent work, Agent 1," Master complimented; Kayla could feel the smile in his words. "Continue to keep a close eye on Alejandro. Heather, too, if necessary. And any others that might interfere with Alejandro's role in the mission."

"Will do," Kayla affirmed, unintentionally saluting as Master cut the transmission.

As soon as she realized she'd just given a salute, Kayla flapped her hand back down to her side and snarled softly. Stupid Chef. His useless training protocol was really beginning to rub off on her and become a series of bad, unnecessary habits.

"Hey, cutie! What are you doing out here?" called a sweet and curious voice.

Kayla whirled around and found herself face to face with Jose; he pretty much towered over her like a skyscraper. As he walked closer, Kayla started wondering what he might taste like to her in wolf form; he was fairly good sized and it looked like he worked out off and on. There were biceps pushing out of his shirt.

Not thinking, Kayla licked her lips and smirked, savoring the potential taste palette in her mind.

"Ooh, you look pretty wild!" he said appreciatively, raising an eyebrow. "You probably know that I've got a girlfriend, but if you're interested, that won't stop me."

Narrowing her eyes, Kayla stood up straight and folded her arms, not responding.

"So, are you just a quiet type or something?" he continued.

Kayla just growled threateningly under her breath and looked up at him with her coldest glare. That combination usually made her pack mates back down or even scared something like a tiny rabbit shitless. Instead, it was just her look, Jose just laughed and leaned against the wall.

"Look, I'm getting the intention that you're interested-"

Humans could be so stupid! Angry, Kayla raced right towards Jose, grabbed him by his forearm and then viciously flipped him over onto his back; she could hear him make an 'oof' sound. He'd chosen the wrong night to mess with Kayla. Not quite done with him yet, she took his wrist and started bending it backward, intending to break it. The further she bent his wrist back, the more Jose started squeaking and squawking; she just ignored him.

Suddenly, Kayla fell back on her rear end. Next thing she knew, Jose was standing over her, arms folded and a frown on his otherwise smug face.

"A simple 'no' would've worked, _puta_," he spat angrily.

"I don't like you!" Kayla grunted, leaping back to her feet. Before he could respond, she launched a kick into his solar plexus. The air leaked out of his lungs and his knees were crumpling underneath him. He was gritting his teeth and glaring at her.

Smiling brutally, Kayla launched another kick directed at his pelvis, but Jose reached out just in time to catch her foot before it could connect. Then he used his other hand to grab her wrist in an iron grip and reeled her in towards him like a fish on a line.

"You're pretty strong for a squirt," he wheezed. "But don't make me kick your tight little ass."

"Just wait until the full moon!" Kayla threatened.

"What? Are you a messed-up weirdo like that blond in season 4 of Total Drama?" he gibed. "Stay off the crack."

He ended up releasing Kayla and started walking away purposefully, heading in some direction to do something.

Gnashing her teeth and flexing her fingers, Kayla was so tempted to go after him and make him pay for being an obnoxious jerk. Instead, she just stood there and watched him go. Once he was gone, she pondered whether or not to turn him into a werewolf at full moon. If he could be a formidable opponent to her in human form, than he'd be a great candidate for her wolf pack. He'd need a few lessons in breaking his pretentious attitude, but after that...Yes.

She smiled a little; she might even end up choosing him as a mate.

**October 2, 2012-Angelus Rosedale Cemetery in Los Angeles**

Renard's gloved hands were stuck in the pockets of his white trench coat. He looked around at all of the various gray and brown headstones and gravestones, his brows furrowed. Palm trees loomed overhead, waving lightly in the breeze rattling around the graveyard.

To think, this was where sixteen-year-old Troy Peterson had been buried at least a year or so ago, one of the unsuspecting interns that had ended up falling dead because of Chris McClain's utter stupidity and ineptitude. Anger burning his insides like a fire, Renard leaned forward and gently touched Troy's headstone, tracing the epitaph etched onto the surface with his index finger. As he hovered there, Renard swore, for the millionth time, that he wasn't just gaining revenge for himself, but for everyone Chris McClain had ever slighted in some way, shape, or form.

After awhile, Renard took a deep breath and stood up. While he was here, he might as well contact Alejandro directly and figure out what, exactly, was going on between him and Heather. Renard fished his cell phone out of his coat pocket and accessed a channel he'd installed on it that would led him contact his minions and others involved in his plans without any interference from unwanted eyes and ears.

As soon as he'd sent the call, Renard found himself waiting for at least two or three minutes before Alejandro finally appeared on the cell phone screen looking angry and tired, his hair unruly and his eyes bloodshot. "It's 2 o' clock in the morning! What the hell do you want?" he demanded.

"Are you rethinking gaining revenge on Heather?" Renard demanded without even giving an explanation as to why he was calling so early in the morning.

"...What?" Alejandro asked, looking confused. He probably hadn't waken up entirely yet.

"I know that you kissed Heather," Renard replied. "Alejandro, all throughout your physical therapy, I coached you and talked you through how you'd get back at her. All that time, you sounded so sure about your revenge. So much time and so much planning...don't let it go to waste, boy!"

"Wait...how do you know about that?" Alejandro snapped. "I thought I was the only person you had positioned on the Total Drama set?"

Renard smiled a little bit, almost fondly. It was things like this that had made him want to bring Alejandro in on the plan in the first place; he reminded Renard a little bit of himself when he'd been a young man. In a strange way, Renard would actually go as far as calling Alejandro the son he never wanted and wasn't related to, but still felt like a son anyway.

"I don't trust you completely," Renard said honestly. "Yes, I have somebody posted there to watch you...You'd do the same in my position."

"Well, since you have this person on the set, do you really need me then?" Alejandro prompted, frowning.

Renard smiled again. "Two people keeping tabs on the set is better than one," he said merrily. "You can keep specific tabs on the other contestants and then the other person can tell me what's going on behind the scenes. You both can fill in gaps that the other might not know about. It gives me a more complete picture."

"Could you tell me who this other person is...?" Alejandro asked. "Since I'm supposed to assume I'm their...compatriot of sorts."

"That defeats the purpose of them being there to tell me about you," Renard countered.

"Shouldn't I be watching them to see how trustworthy they are to your cause? A system of extra checks and balances?" Alejandro pushed.

His response made Renard chuckle. Perhaps he should throw the boy a bone, just to satiate his irritating, nitpicking curiosity. "Oh, she's proven her trustworthiness to me," he replied coyly. "I know she wouldn't betray me, even if she did have three million dollars dangling in her face."

"Are you completely sure about that?" Alejandro asked, sounding suspicious. He'd taken the bait. Renard wondered who Alejandro suspected to be the other minion on set.

"Moving on," Renard trumpeted, sick of playing Alejandro's back-and-forth game. "Why _did_ you kiss Heather?"

"The kiss meant nothing," Alejandro told him in a measured, even voice. "Events in the game have led to my current unfortunate situation of having to work with her. If anything, this just turns things to my advantage. I can gain her trust, then stab her in the back later on-"

"All right," Renard cut him off. The boy had talent at lying, but Renard could see through him like a Ziploc plastic baggy. If something bigger happened between Alejandro and Heather, which Renard was sure would, he'd send in Kayla to break them apart. Personally, he never really had considered Alejandro a huge part of his plan or thought that he would remain loyal, but nonetheless, he practically had Alejandro under his thumb. Even if Alejandro did try to go against Renard, Renard had ways of taking him down.

That meant less opposition for him when he started putting the final phases of his plan in action.

Before Alejandro could say anything else, Renard just hung up on him. The clock was already clicking for him enough as it was.

After sticking the cell phone back into his pocket, Renard went to work setting up candles and otherwise. He pulled a big black book out of his jacket pocket and then completely pulled off his trench coat. Bandoliers were fastened across his chest in the shape of an X. He drew a pattern on the sidewalk and then sat in the very middle of it.

Solemnly, he started reading several passages out of the book. At first, all he could hear was the slight whispering of the wind; everything was still just a gloomy shade of mundane and boring. Five more minutes of non-stop reading passed and Renard started to feel a tingling sensation engulf his body. He even experienced a weird taste in his mouth, as if he'd been eating raw fish. The wind started to pick up. Icy fingers stroked the back of Renard's neck, arms, and lips. The overall sensation unnerved him a bit, but he made himself stay calm, mentally counting to three over and over in his head. The bells wrapped around his torso tinkled softly and gently, too, like a sweet lullaby, adding to the calming effect of counting numbers.

Eventually, he felt a soft, almost unnoticeable tap on his shoulder. Nervously, Renard lowered the book and looked up. Looming over him and bathed in the shadows of night stood the tall and imposing figure of the ruler of the underworld himself, Hades.

"What do you want, _**Theodore**_?" he barked, making Renard drop the book and jump to his feet.

Renard's hands shook crazily at his sides. For a moment he was silent, unable to speak; only the bells made any kind of noise. Even if he had been interacting with the Olympians throughout the entirety of his life, he was never prepared when they actually appeared in front of him in their chosen mortal looking forms.

"Spit it out!" Hades demanded again, his eyes turning completely red, drowning out the irises.

"I want to resurrect all of the dead souls that hold any kind of grudge against Chris McClain," Renard replied in as calm and clear a voice as he could.

Hades harrumphed and made of bunch of displeased, irritated noises. "Aphrodite did mention that you're still not over that whole Chris McClain revenge plan...You're a doctor; you can have any woman you want; you even have a bunch of favors you can call in from Olympus. You have the kind of life quite a few mortals would love to have, even if it did mean being part cyborg, yet you're wasting time gaining petty revenge on Chris McClain. Oh, Tartarus, you're wasting my time right now trying to gain vengeance on Chris McClain!"

"This is the only favor I'm calling in from you," Renard replied, trying to hold back his own irritation. "After this, you never have to see me again."

"Thank Zeus for that!" Hades conceded. "You're just lucky that I'm bound to fulfilling your request...and that there's quite a few souls that have held a grudge against Chris ever since they made it to the Underworld, even after getting to Elysium! So...where do you want me to send the bastards?"

"Two blocks away from the Tiara Hotel near the set of where the movie _Supernaturality_ was filmed," Renard instructed.

"I know where the low budget set is for season 5 of Total Drama," Hades sighed. "All of the gods do by now...considering you'll never shut up about your plans or stop harassing us."

In reply, Renard just folded his arms and started tapping his foot impatiently. "Only favor I'm asking for. You'll never have to see my face again. Just to recap."

Rolling his eyes and exhaling, Hades raised the pitch fork he was holding in his left hand and the points on the very end started igniting with green fire. Then he leaned over and touched the points to the grass over Troy's grave. A small fire started up and started burning through the grass, then through the dark brown dirt underneath. Curious, Renard turned away from Hades and knelt down, his bells chiming as he did. From there, Renard's attention was completely dedicated to what was going on in front of him.

With that, Hades just shook his head and disappeared in a giant puff of blackish gray smoke.

Within seconds, the fire had burned all the way through the ground, exactly to where Troy's body probably was. Renard gasped a little when a skeletal hand suddenly reached up out of the newly formed hole in the ground. Then he backed away, crawling back onto his feet and making enough room so that whatever was coming out had room.

Absolutely mystified, Renard watched as the skeletal hand pulled itself up and out of the hole. An entire skeleton followed, grunting and making noises as it struggled to get out. Renard ended up rushing over and helping the figure up. As soon as it was standing, Renard held its forearm and looked at it from a distance. Such a bizarre experience seeing a living, animated skeleton right in front of your face and knowing you weren't dreaming.

A bright pair of green pupils appeared in the skeleton's eye sockets; it looked like it was blinking. Tilting its head back and forth, it started taking in the world around it, even looked at its' skeletal hands, flexed the phalanges bones a few times.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, Troy!" Renard said grandly, shaking the skeleton's hand.

Troy looked at him and frowned as much as a skeleton's skull would allow. "Who the hell are you...?" he asked, his tone in between anger and confusion.


	6. Episode 2 Part 2: Lineage

Episode 2 Part 2: Lineage

A/N: Sorry these take so long...This just isn't one of the projects that I work on consistently. This chapter is based around adding more depth to Theodore; I think after the end of last chapter, there's some things I think I should clarify and explain. That way, it doesn't seem completely implausible that Theo has access to what he does, but then again...I already turned this fan fic in a strange 180 as soon as I introduced the concept of Greek gods having anything to do with Total Drama. Without further ado: This is the sad, but enlightening tale of a strange American man named Theodore Renard.

**June 7, 1991-Christy Renard's House in Hollywood, California**

Theodore was tall, but very thin and gangly. Some people even went as far as describing him as a "disgusting human walking stick"; or rather, that's how intelligent and scientific minded, but extremely superficial, Sandy Cornflower had put it. Ever since Theodore had entered high school, it felt like the entire world was against him: He was socially awkward, he was shy, practically everything a text book nerd was and practically everybody picked on him for it...If people knew his story, or even believed it, they might not look at him like he was the scum of the Earth.

It'd crossed his mind more than once to ask for "heavenly help" and improve his life, but his uptight, moral-bound human mother Christy had told him not to. She told him that it was already difficult enough to be human and that, in some ways, the Olympians were more corrupt than humans could ever be, even with all of their faults and shortcomings...

For most of his life, Theodore had tended to agree with her, but as he progressed further and further into the world of belligerent and nasty hormones, he found himself opening up to other venues and possibilities.

As he lay on his thin pallet and stared out of his window at the starry sky, Theodore found himself pondering all of this, as well as having drifting, naughty thoughts about Sandy Cornflower. Sighing, Theodore closed his eyes. Tonight, no more pondering and feeling wishy washy.

Tonight, he was going to learn about his bizarre, messed up heritage and what his crazy family tree could do for him.

Blowing out a whispering breath, Theodore murmured one single word: "Cupid..."

When he opened his eyes again, Theodore thought he saw the dark silhouette of a man sitting on his window sill. As soon as he blinked, the silhouette was gone and Theodore felt his heart start hammering. Barely a few seconds passed when Theodore felt a presence nearby. Feeling his breath catch in his throat, Theodore jolted up into a sitting position; sitting at the very edge of his bed was a lean and muscular man with curling, sandy blond hair and a pair of very gentle, reassuring gray eyes.

"I wondered when I was going to get to meet you," he said in a soft voice.

Theodore pulled his legs under him and furrowed his brows, frowning skeptically. At first, he'd been scared out of his mind; he'd imagined what it'd be like to meet his Olympian father several different times, but he'd never worked up the nerve until just this moment. Some part of him had always reserved some sort of resentment towards Cupid, but now...Theodore felt like he'd regressed into an eight-year-old longing for a father figure.

"I..." Theodore couldn't speak.

"I know why you called me," Cupid said in a voice that betrayed some of his hurt feelings.

"Sandy Cornflower," Theodore sputtered, feeling himself blush. He didn't know why he'd blurted her name; it'd just come out.

"More than just her," Cupid said with a knowing, but sad smile. "I know it's difficult for you growing up with your mother's genes instead of mine. And because I wanted to make amends with my wife Psyche for cheating on her, it was only right that you wouldn't remind Psyche of me and my adultery. Besides, Christy probably likes knowing that her only son is more like her than his unorthodox father."

There was a beat of silence; Theodore mulled over what Cupid had just said. In his curiosity, he finally found his voice. Part of him was insanely curious about his father and his origins while another part of him was bursting with rage and hatred. In the end, the second won out.

"Don't you have other mortal kids?" Theodore blurted angrily. "I know a little bit of Greek mythology. Gods are famous for incest and infidelity!"

"You're my only one," Cupid replied almost instantly. "I take my commitment to Psyche very seriously. It took a lot to be able to marry her in the first place. Christy is a very special case; the one night stand I had with her resulted from me accidentally poking myself with my own arrow and her being drunk-"

There was no venom in Cupid's voice. He was pretty much a robot as he recounted this information to his son, but as soon as he reached the "one night stand" statement, Theodore found himself having trouble processing everything. He'd always known he was Cupid's son, but he'd always assumed that it'd happened because Christy and Cupid had fallen in love; they'd had him somewhere along the line and Cupid had been absent because he was an Olympian and Olympians didn't have time for their many, unintentional mortal children. Christy had never really told him the full story, but was this...terrible story...really the truth?

Theodore couldn't help lashing out:"So...I'm just a great big mistake?"

The comment made Cupid's eyes widen and he wavered for a second as if he'd been hit by a cold wind. Then he looked at Theodore, directly into his son's gray eyes, and shook his head. "No, not at all. You're the center of Christy's world; I wish I could say the same. I wish, so desperately, that you were my son with Psyche, but no matter what the circumstances, I've always loved you. Not one day has gone by where I haven't waited for you to call me..."

Cupid's emotion was evident on his face; he was an open book. His eyes were wide, watering, and vulnerable. Never in his life would Theodore have expected his father to behave like this, or even care about him in any way. Despite his own inhibitions and a lifetime of being taught to be prejudiced towards the Olympians, Theodore felt a wall beginning to crumble.

He furrowed his brows. "I've barely known you for five minutes and you're a lot different from who I always imagined you'd be..."

"Didn't Christy tell you never to judge a book by its' cover?" Cupid asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"She did, but she's a hypocrite," Theodore replied bitterly. "And even when it's not said by a hypocrite, nobody really follows that advice in the first place..."

"Take my hand," Cupid said suddenly, looking serious as he extended his hand, palm up, towards Theodore.

Confused, Theodore shook his head. "...why?"

"Today is the day I start spoiling you rotten," Cupid said, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. "Whether Christy or Psyche like it or not."

Still ferociously skeptical and frowning, Theodore reached out and tentatively took Cupid's hand.

"Watch," Cupid said with a bowstring smile. "All of your Earthly vanity problems are about to disappear."

Warmth started spreading across the back of Theodore's hand, and then up his fore arm. Theodore's eyes widened as he watched his fingers starting to become thicker and less feminine, actually growing and stretching until his own hand was the same size as Cupid's. Frightened, Theodore snapped his head up and all he saw on his father's face was a wide, happy smile.

The warm feeling continued to spread and as far as Theodore could see; more and more of his physical features were changing. He felt his stomach and midsection grow by a few inches; even his feet grew by a size or two. As the strange metamorphosis continued, Cupid grabbed Theodore's forearm and led him to the bathroom in Theodore's room and stood him in front of his small, rectangular mirror.

By now, the warmth had stopped and Theodore felt like he could relate to an alien on another planet. In front of him, an unfamiliar face was staring back at him from the other side of the mirror. This face belonged to a male model: a squared jaw, a Romanesque nose, the complete lack of pimples...It was pretty much..._perfect!_

"That's...me?" Theodore reached out and lightly touched his own reflection in complete wonder.

"Yes, that's you," Cupid said encouragingly.

Coming out of his stupor, Theodore realized that Cupid was right beside him, only taller by a few mere inches. Cupid was smiling and Theodore was frowning, yet despite the difference in facial expression, Theodore found himself slightly freaked out by how similar he now looked to his father. Actually, thinking about it, Cupid barely looked more than five years older than Theodore...

Reaching up and touching his own face, Theodore furrowed his brows. Some part of his heart had chipped off a little and fallen to the floor, near the toe of his Air Jordans. The face he'd known for so long and had come to see as his own was gone completely. Even if he did feel the same inside he was still...somehow very different.

"Is...something wrong?" Cupid asked, sensing Theodore's unease.

"It'll just take me awhile to get used to this," Theodore said honestly. "And...Mom, too. She won't be very happy."

"What matters is that _you're_ happy," Cupid said with a serene smile. "From now on, I'm not living in regret ever again. You _are_ my son and I want to make you proud of that."

Those words started reverberating through Theodore's head. He just frowned and continued staring blankly, mesmerized, at his own reflection.

"I'll be back again...very soon," Cupid promised. When Cupid pulled his hand away, it felt like the touch of a light feather; Theodore barely noticed what had just happened. Three more minutes passed before Theodore finally stopped staring awkwardly at his reflection.

When he turned around and walked back into his bedroom, Theodore realized that nobody was there. Feebly, he looked around, at the ceiling, the floor, the window sill again. As soon as he'd come, he was gone; Cupid had left.

**May 2000-Mt. Olympus**

The real Mt. Olympus was more impressive and unreal in person than it was in Theodore's mind. Towers made of gold and steel shot up everywhere, going so high up that even leaning back they stretched far beyond the extent vision could go. There were also short, modest mud huts and grandiose, boasting buildings leaning more towards being artsy than truly rational or meaningful. In the midst of all of this, various gods surrounded by pale yellow halos scurried back and forth, some carrying various items and others just casually walking along and chatting with each other.

Theodore couldn't stop looking out of the window at everything, despite how uneasy and nervous he felt inside. Feeling a lump in his throat, he turned and stared dumbly at the golden plate in front of him. A stack of delicious, freshly baked buns sat in front of him: the physical manifestation he'd chosen for his first taste of the legendary ambrosia. His stomach rumbled like thunder and he was surprised by how much he wanted the food in front of him, but he just couldn't eat.

Looking sideways at Cupid, Theodore watched as the god drank wine from a goblet and eagerly took bites from his own helping of ambrosia. In the short time that he had known his father, Theodore had come to know him as an emotional, sensitive, and poetic man with a very wild, fun, and playful streak to him.

Cupid looked over at Theodore and smiled. "What do you think?"

Theodore shrugged and frowned.

"Have you tried the ambrosia?" Cupid asked eagerly, his lips curling into a bow string smile.

"I just can't do it," Theodore said honestly, pushing his plate away. "Most people would leap at the chance for immortality, but I can't really stand the thought..."

"It might be different if you'd grown up here," Cupid mused. "I grew up knowing I'd live forever. Looked forward to it, too! Puberty and childhood are so depressing in comparison to the endless forever of a-"

"It's more out of respect for Mom," Theodore replied, cutting Cupid off. "A month after she died, she came to me in a vision when I was sleeping. She looked twenty years younger, barely older than I am now! I never would have imagined her that young...But she was happy. Happier than she'd ever been on Earth. She made it to the Elysium Fields! If what she showed me was anything close to the real thing, that's heaven if I ever saw it."

Theodore looked over at Cupid, who had a boyish grin dancing on his face; he was way too happy right now...

"I'm glad that I convinced Hades to let her in," Cupid said. "The favor he asked is worth the smile on your face."

"Dad, why did you bring me to Olympus today?" Theodore asked, wanting to dodge around hearing about Cupid's trials in the Underworld. Hades always had big price tags when the gods asked him for any sort of favor. If Theodore knew what Cupid's task had been, his resolve would be lowered by guilt, and he couldn't make a life-changing decision rooted in guilt.

As he watched Cupid's shoulders arch up in anticipation, Theodore interlocked his fingers; he already knew the answer to his own question.

Lightly fingering the delicate stem of his wine glass, Cupid lowered his lashes. His face shifted between a half-smile and a frown. "I want you to be a permanent resident of Olympus someday," he admitted. "To live here as a full-fledged demi-god. I've already started talking things over with Zeus himself and I think there's a high likelihood of me being successful."

"What about Psyche?" Theodore asked, placing his chin in his hand. "I thought she hated me."

"I talked things over with Psyche a long time ago," Cupid replied, smiling. "I am the god of love. I can be _extremely_ persuasive."

As soon as Cupid wiggled his eyebrows, Theodore rolled his eyes and smiled despite himself. Then he steeled himself again. No more beating around the bush.

"I'm not moving to Olympus," Theodore said in as resolute a tone as he could.

"You don't even know what everything's like yet!" Cupid cried, gesturing emphatically.

"Close enough," Theodore replied bitterly. "You said it yourself: Olympus is nothing but politics."

"This_ is_ about your mom, isn't it?"

"I appreciate everything you've ever done for me, Dad. Really," Theodore assured, trying not to look at Cupid's despondent face. "It's just...I think I'd be happier if I ended up in the Fields after I died. Living with Mom in that paradise."

"You'd be at the very bottom of the totem pole!" Cupid protested. "Elysium Fields residents are pretty much Hades' grunts with the best perks a _regular_ mortal could get! I could give you a life with so much more above and beyond that!"

"Mom...asked me to come there," Theodore confessed, smiling faintly at the memory of his vision.

"Don't be so brash!" Cupid begged, chewing on his lip. "Just...allow me to show you the glory of Olympus. What sort of post you'd have. Then, from there, you can make a more cement and well-informed decision. I'll respect whatever decision you make in the end, just-"

"Okay, Dad." Theodore looked up at Cupid, smile growing until his teeth were showing. But the smile felt forced.

"You could easily be another god of attraction," Cupid encouraged. "Easily."

For a brief second, Theodore considered the thought: having a seat of power and being a truly divine, ethereal being. His heart beat a little bit faster, but then the thought faded. He'd never really been a man driven by hunger for power; he was admittedly superficial and vain, but he saw himself as more of a servant or beneficiary to mankind rather than a ruler...

The visits to Mt. Olympus became more frequent until the point where Theodore was touring at least once a week.

By the end of the month of May, Theodore had met his grandmother Aphrodite, his stepmother Psyche, and seen all of the different restaurants. He'd seen thousands upon thousands of residencies, where the numerous gods lived. All of them were in charge of maintaining at least one Earthly concept or idea. Beyond that, Theodore had also seen gods discussing how to go about their daily chores, going to the local courthouse and resolving individual conflicts. Sometimes, two gods battled it out in the Olympus version of a Roman coliseum, where the victor gained more powers and status and the loser took their original status. But, none of the lesser gods could challenge the main twelve Olympians at any point in time.

Cupid had taken Theodore to see a few matches, but Theodore wasn't really interested in watching gods shoot laser beams or use super powered strikes against each other. To him, it seemed really frivolous and ridiculous. In comparison to a mere mortal, any god, even the lowest, was extremely powerful. Then again, most of the gods seemed to be only vaguely aware of Earth anymore. Without full awareness that they had dominion over an entire race of mortals who couldn't even dream of having a fraction of a god's power, of course a god would feel restrained in the world of Olympus. Ambition and hunger for power could easily rule a bureaucrat's life when nothing else of meaning filled it.

Gritting his teeth, Theodore pulled out of his reverie. His father was inside of a nearby tavern. A few times, Theodore saw him singing loudly and dancing, acting like a mortal drunk. Sometimes, he appeared with his arm slung around the dark-haired Dionysus' shoulders.

Furrowing his brows, Theodore looked down somberly at the tops of his boots. Could he stand to spend an eternity with a drunken college frat boy if it meant possessing powers beyond his wildest dreams?

"Indecisive?" a raspy, quiet whisper hissed.

Shocked, Theodore looked up, looked around. But nobody was there...

"Hello, young half-breed," the voice continued as a shadowy figure started evaporating into existence in front of Theodore. Slowly, the figure transformed from darkness into a slender, snow white woman with pupil-less red eyes and a waterfall of black hair.

The woman blinked and smiled sinisterly, her very presence sending chills down his spine.

"W-who are you?" Theodore asked as the warning lights started going off in his head.

"Nemesis," she replied, the side of her mouth quirking up in a strange sort of half-smirk.

"The goddess of revenge and retribution!" Theodore gasped, his heart sinking to his feet. "What have I done-?"

"Besides _wrongly_ seduce young mortal women?" Nemesis scoffed. "You're pretty much innocent in the eyes of the gods! Barely a _speck_ to Zeus right now! But to me? I've been waiting to get my hands on you for a _very_ long time now..."

"What do you want with me?" Theodore asked, trying to look away from Nemesis' unnerving eyes, but unable to do so. "If I'm just an insignificant speck."

"Oh, this is personal...," Nemesis replied, brows raising. "I'll take whatever punishment Zeus gives me!"

"I didn't do anything to you!" Theodore protested, flabbergasted and utterly confused.

"Of course you don't know what you did," Nemesis whispered in a snake-like hiss, shaking her head. "But I'll make sure you know what sort of pain you've caused. Every gut-wrenching detail." As she spoke, Nemesis sidled up to Theodore and placed her hands on his shoulders.

Before Theodore could reply to the goddess' cryptic declarations, she leaned in and started kissing him. Theodore's eyes snapped shut and he felt his body go limp in her arms. The entire world went dark; he had a brief out-of-body sensation which lasted until he felt like he'd been completely clipped away from his human body. He was still conscious, some sort of featherlight entity. Somehow, his soul had detached completely from his body and he was somewhere else entirely.

Holding up his now shaking hands, Theodore's suspicions were confirmed. His soul looked like a collection of bright white fractals; or a see-through jar with jumping electric fibers and wisps. The sight greatly disoriented him, making him shift his hands to his sides.

Before Theodore could figure out anything else, a giant fireball appeared, rolling and raging. The fireball parted like a curtain, revealing Nemesis' sneering face. The flames reflected in her furious eyes; they roared and leaped- red, orange, and yellow-becoming the physical manifestation of Nemesis' unadulterated rage.

"I've seen so many despicable creatures like you!" she screamed. "But you're undeniably the _most_ despicable!"

"I don't understand why you're so angry at me!" Theodore cried.

"As if you need to understand!" she hissed. "I don't care if you ever figure out your sins. All you need to know is that you've made a deadly enemy!"

She looked probingly at Theodore and he could feel her gaze raking his soul. A thousand needles seemed to be shearing and poking at him, diving straight through his heart, chest, limbs, everywhere. He howled, screamed, and moaned, waiting impatiently for it all to stop.

Finally, Nemesis looked away, steepling her fingers as she thought. Gasping, Theodore glared at her, waiting impatiently for the prickles of pain to recede that much more and for her to supply an explanation justifying her actions. He was breathing heavily, gasping as he experienced aches that crossed all throughout him in waves, radiating and shocking every part of him. Painful memories reeled through his mind like a film reel; he felt sad, angry, depressed, and every other extreme of terrible emotion all at once...

"All of those poor women!" Nemesis sighed, her expression a mosaic of disbelief. "How could you break so many hearts?"

Theodore shrieked, trying to fight the pain rocking through his soul.

"You're worse than Narcissus, you bastard!" Nemesis screamed, her fingers curling into fists. "Your beauty is just a glamour, breaking up unknowing couples and gaining you unrealistic favors!"

Grunting, Theodore looked up at her, numb and hollow. His expression was pleading; his lips tried to part into an apology, hoping, desperately, that she'd stop. But from the look on her face-her lowered, arching brows and the curl of her lips, showed no mercy.

"I'll show you," Nemesis heaved, the flames around growing and becoming more erratic. _"I'll. Show You..."_

Bowing his head, Theodore tried to come to terms with his probable upcoming death.

Dramatically, Nemesis raised her hands. White energy crackled on her fingertips and a huge knife of light appeared in front of her. Grunting, she gestured forward and the knife flew towards Theodore, sinking into his chest. Bleakly, Theodore stared down at it, watching as the tip sank farther in and then dived all the way through.

A burst of bright white light, then he and Nemesis teleported out of the strange, dark world and re-appeared back in Olympus.

Theodore was completely beyond the point of feeling physical pain now, his body shaking as Nemesis quickly pulled a short dagger out of his chest and watched him fall to his knees. The only thing Theodore felt was as if his heart had been crushed into tiny fragments and then ground up into a fine powder. Out of the corner of his eye, Theodore watched as bluish red blood gushed like a geyser from his chest. It wasn't just blood flowing out, but a gush of strong, unbelievable emotions.

Making a satisfied noise, Nemesis planted her foot against his pectoral muscles and forcefully pushed his face further into the ground. Then she leaned in towards him, her lips only millimeters away from his ear. "_That_ was specifically for Sandy," Nemesis whispered, her voice echoing and hissing. "Do you know what she and her daughter Gwen have to go through without you around? You really _are_ Daddy's little boy!"

"...Sandy had a daughter?" Theodore gasped, his eyes opening incredulously.

"You don't leave a woman who loves you more than life itself," Nemesis replied as she lightly tapped Theodore's forehead with her index finger. "Especially when that woman is my _granddaughter_!"

Eyes growing even wider, Theodore's lips moved open and shut like those of a fish. Thoughts swam through his mind, one after the other, followed by memories: Yearning for Sandy in the school hallways, finally winning her over, their brief and passionate relationship, then Theodore's realization that he and Sandy didn't really fit...

"Today, I've planted a curse on you, since I can't just outright kill you," Nemesis said one last time. "You're going to experience what follows the true hunger of revenge. Someday, somebody will commit such an unforgivable line of crimes; crimes against you and many others. When he crosses _you_, your goal in life will be nothing more than to take him down. Even if it kills you in the process..."

"My perspective on life is the worst gift I could bestow upon anybody," Nemesis finished. "That's what you get for messing with my loved ones...for betraying the line of Helen of Troy."

The world ahead started becoming more and more blurry as Theodore gasped and floundered. He was falling, drowning; Nemesis' words drifted farther away. All he could remember was that she wanted to kill him, but couldn't. Was she so sure she hadn't achieved her supposedly unattainable goal?

Distant voices, somebody was moving him-Then the world went black again.

"Theodore? Are you all right?" asked a familiar, concerned voice.

Theodore's eyes snapped open; he rocketed out of the realm of unconsciousness with the force of a roller coaster at maximum speed. His entire body was covered in sticky sweat. Somehow, he had been relocated to a bed in an undisclosed location. So many rattling, confused, and startled emotions. Sucking in a breath, Theodore sat up, trying to calm himself down, but he couldn't with his heart being a hammering radio trapped in his chest. Something startling burbled up from the edges of Theodore's mind; Nemesis, something she'd said...

"Gwen..." he murmured, the name tentative on his lips. _"Gwen!"_he cried out, louder this time.

Desperately, Theodore turned and looked at Cupid, who looked uncharacteristically somber and sober.

"Who's Gwen?" Cupid asked, lightly touching his son's arm.

"She's...my daughter," he replied, the words foreign on his lips. "I...have a daughter."

"You could still see her," Cupid reassured, touching Theodore's shoulder. "My biggest regret is that I entered your life late. But I'm still part of it. You could do the same for-"

"No, I can't," Theodore whispered.

"You can and you should!" Cupid protested. "If a Greek god can be part of his son's life, then a human can be part of his daughter's...You don't have the same obstacles-"

"Nemesis _cursed_ me!" Theodore said bitterly, holding up his hands and staring at his palms as if he'd find a signifying mark there. "I can't remember exactly how, but...my curse could hurt Gwen. A chance I can't take." He looked sideways at Cupid, his expression forlorn.

"I understand," Cupid said grimly.

For the first time, Theodore really looked at his father's face, noticing details he hadn't before. Cupid's eyes were red-rimmed; he'd been crying. And, on his left cheek, there was a glowing green symbol of a skull. The symbol made Theodore's eyes widen and he looked questioningly at Cupid.

"You were so close to death," Cupid cried, tears burbling at the edges of his eyes. "I had to do something...extremely desperate to cure what wounds you had. You're still more human than demi-god, so Nemesis could have easily killed you. Zeus gave her the ability to kill gods and humans alike; almost nobody can resist her wrath..."

"I guess Nemesis knew that I'd do anything to save you, hence the curse." He sighed deeply, trying to cover the mark on his cheek. "If only I'd known about the-"

"What did you do...?" Theodore asked, reaching out and grabbing his father's wrist.

Making a strained sound, Cupid shook his head.

"You've done so much for me." Shaking his own head, Theodore pulled Cupid's wrist away from his cheek. "But saving my life...what price did you have to pay?"

Furrowing his brows, Cupid looked down at his lap for several minutes. Blinked once, twice. His silence seemed to stretch into a short eternity until finally, he looked up, his eyes shining bright with the threat of more tears.

"My immortality," Cupid whispered, eyebrows raised; there was fear hidden deep in the depths of his eyes. A fear unlike anything Theodore had ever seen in his life.

**June 2000-The Underworld**

Fists clenched in his lap, Theodore sucked in a breath. The small gondola gently swayed back and forth, the movement contrasting Theodore's inner tumult of emotions.

On either side of the gondola was the endless, dark mirror of the River Styx. Loud, plaintive wails ripped the air; gloom and condensation hung everywhere like curtains. Big clouds of white mist rolled by as if the gondola were sailing through a dark, starless night sky up in the stratosphere.

Charon was an imposing figure, his white-knuckled hand wrapped around an oar as he steered the gondola along.

"Remember our deal," Charon said, looking at Theodore with steely and hungry eyes.

"Get Cupid to shoot Persephone with a love arrow," Theodore repeated as his fingernails dug into the skin of his palms.

"Good." Charon nodded.

Theodore had bribed Charon "with any favor" to take him directly to Hades' estate, avoiding Cerberus and all of the other obstacles. The muscles in Charon's back rose as he steered the gondola towards the east side of Hades' gigantic castle. It was fashioned after a medieval style castle, with four giant turrets, a moat filled with green gas, and statues with a full myriad of different facial expressions covering all four sides of the giant building.

As Charon pulled the gondola up onto shore, one of the emoting statues caught Theodore's eye: It looked like a teenage girl with wide, moony eyes and hair that fell to her waist. Some deep, instinctive feeling roiled inside Theodore, filling him with a deep sense of longing and questions. As soon as the gondola came to a complete stop, Theodore leaped up out of the boat and ran directly towards that statue, not sure why he was so determined to reach it.

When he came face to face with the statue, Theodore started reaching out, slowly, splaying his fingers and touching her cheek. Leaning in closer, Theodore was nose to nose with the statue now, letting his fingers trail to her lips; he outlined their shape, memories of sweet Sandy filling his brain. Overcome by overwhelming affection and longing, Theodore closed his eyes and felt himself sinking into nostalgic memories...

A round face, pink lips, and long, curling brown hair. Sparkling dark eyes looked up at him, pulling him in and suffocating him. "Oh, Sandy..." Theodore moaned.

"I'm not Sandy," a small, mouse-like voice prompted Theodore.

His eyes wrenched open and he found himself clinging to air, staring at an empty stone wall. He blinked; where was the statue?

Turning, his eyes widened when he saw a moony eyed teenage girl standing in front of him. She was smiling lightly, her pale bluish gray eyes looking curiously at him. When she tilted her head, her long and pale blond hair swayed slightly.

"Who are you?" Theodore prompted.

"I can't really tell you," she said apologetically. "But I'm here to help."

Scoffing, Theodore turned, about to call for Charon. All he found was an empty, sandy shore. No sign of Charon anywhere. Of course, Theodore had only asked to be taken to Hades' estate; there was enough room in that agreement for Charon to find as loopholes as Swiss cheese holes.

"Mr. Renard?" called the little voice again.

Sighing, Theodore turned to see the strange girl extending her hand to him. She looked at him expectantly, her brows raised. "My time here is limited..."

"How do you...know my name?" he asked, frowning.

She didn't answer. Instead, she reached out and took his hand in her own. Then she closed her eyes and the next thing Theodore knew, they were somewhere else entirely. Frantically, he surveyed his new surroundings: a long, dark stone hallway with a stone archway. Hand shaped torches were hung up on the wall, green flames leaping in the grate of each one; it was the only source of light available, giving everything an eerie, haunted feeling.

A hand clamped over Theodore's mouth and he heard a telepathic voice in his mind: "You're inside Hades' castle, right outside of his sitting room."

"Wha-" Theodore interrupted, only to be quieted again by a loud, crackling telepathic hush noise.

"You know what you're here to do," she finished.

Theodore's questions remained unanswered; the hand fell away from his mouth and he only caught a slight glimpse of the strange girl. Her expression was unreadable as she started fading and, eventually, she'd disappeared completely. For a few moments, Theodore just stared blankly at the spot where she'd been standing. For most of his life since high school, he'd been blindly accepting gifts, no second thoughts about why or how he received them...

Perhaps there was a mysterious goddess on his side? Cupid did have a lot of allies in Olympus and Theodore knew he was about to do anything and everything to repay what his father had done for him. Giving up his immortality just to rescue him? Sucking in a breath, Theodore could hear his heart beating in his ears as his fear and anxiety churned into a cocktail in his stomach.

Silently, he sent the unnamed goddess a mental "thank you" as he bent down and braced himself against the wall, inching himself closer towards the arch. Towards Hades' sitting room. The God of the Dead himself. Only one rank lower than the almighty Zeus...

As he got closer, Theodore could hear voices. He risked getting as close to the archway as he could, creeping around and clutching the cold stone with fragile fingers. Peeking into the room, Theodore was surprised to find a fairly modern looking setting: reddish brown leather sofas arranged in a circle, a plasma screen TV mounted on one wall. In the center of the couches was a misty crystal ball, a myriad of colors swimming around in the surface.

But it wasn't Hades' décor that made Theodore suck in a breath; it was the sight of the god himself. Hades was in human form: standing at six feet tall, dark brown hair and pale green eyes, a slight hooked curve in his nose. He was wearing an expensive Armani suit, legs crossed, one arm draped over the back of his couch.

Across from him was Eris-who was in a human shape, but definitely not human. She was a slender, woman figured shadow covered with a network of diamond stars and spinning galaxies. Her arms were wrapped-protectively-around a small child, with long black hair and wide chocolate brown eyes. That human child could easily be the same age as Gwen...Theodore's stomach lurched a little at the thought.

"...I can't give Rio Cupid's immortality," Hades was saying.

"Why not?" Eris asked petulantly.

"I don't want to!" Hades replied with a barking laugh.

"Wouldn't you give your own human son immortality?" Eris asked.

"No!" Hades laughed again. "He's quite content being human."

"What if he wanted to be?" she pressed.

"I might think about it, I guess..." Hades agreed, bobbing his head in an indecisive way.

"That's why!" Eris jeered. "You're selfish."

"Look who's talking!"

Eris' face evaporated into a heart-shaped human woman's for a brief second, a pair of pitch black eyes narrowing wickedly. A red pair of bow-shaped lips appeared as Eris rapidly transformed into a curvaceous, busty woman wearing a red silk dress, brown hair cascading around her shoulders.

"You're teasing me..." Hades sighed.

Eris flipped her hair and Rio laughed. "Look at me, the sexy human Latina Carmen Burromuerto that tempted Hades into cheating on Persephone...Ooh! Ooh!" She started rolling her shoulders.

"Mmm," Hades groaned, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Alright! I'll cut the crap," Eris laughed, smirking. "You're just such an easy target, considering you're a serious hardass most of the time!"

Clearing his throat, Hades opened his eyes and stared at Eris through half-lowered lids. "Have you crafted a new apple?" he asked.

"Yuppers!" Eris rolled her hand and was holding a silver apple in Carmen's elegant fingers the next moment. It shined eerily in the green light, the name "Zeus" bold and easy to read on the side.

The sight made Theodore take a sharp breath. He was just about to retract towards the other side of the wall and escape the castle when something stopped him dead in his tracks. Rio was looking directly at him; their eyes locked and from the way her mouth formed a little "O", Theodore knew that he was in trouble.

Just as he pulled away and ducked back against the wall, he heard shuffling and movement. Adrenaline pumping, Theodore gave up on subtlety and took off at a dogged run down the hall, opposite the direction of the sitting room. His footfalls were way too loud, echoing off of the walls; his own heartbeat sounded like the clatter of gunfire.

Barely one-hundred feet down the hall, a figure blocked his way. Eris, still in human form, had her arms and legs braced against the walls. A muscular, suit-clad pair of arms wrapped around Theodore's torso, pinning him. He turned his head slightly and was looking directly at Hades: he was grinning evilly, a long snake tongue poking out in a comical way.

"Here to take back your father's immortality, I suppose?" Hades' grin grew. "Oh, Tartarus, I was hoping you'd show up! Things are about to become very entertaining..."


	7. Episode 2, Part 3: The Silver Apple

Episode 2 Part 3: The Silver Apple

**June 2000-Mt. Olympus, Zeus' Throne Room**

If Hera's rage had a human personification, she came in the form of the five foot seven and raven haired Irene. Of every mortal woman Zeus had courted, Irene was one of the most irate; she was going to pursue and harrass Zeus for 'Olympian favors' until the day she died, all under the umbrella of an excuse that he owed her child support.

Zeus leaned back in his marble throne, running his long pianist fingers through his short white hair as the angry mortal woman glared daggers at him. Ruby haired Tyche, the smug goddess of fortune and Irene's Olympian equivalent to a lawyer, sat in the throne next to his, arms folded loosely across her chest and long, shapely legs crossed. Her victorious pose was reflected in the way Irene folded her arms and stood with her feet planted firmly.

"Zeus!" Irene grilled, her eyes narrowing.

Groaning, Zeus closed his eyes and casually waved his hand. With an electric pop and sizzle, a burlap sack filled with a million dollars appeared next to Irene. Both Zeus and Tyche watching her closely, Irene turned and opened the bag, starting to rifle through the contents. Carefully, she picked out a pile of crisp dollar bills, holding them up to her face at eye level and scruntinizing them, then to her nose. A manic smile broke out on her face as she sniffed the bills and moaned.

Involuntarily, Tyche cringed and smiled awkwardly, her pencil thin eyebrows furrowing. "Where did you find this woman...?" she whispered. "I can understand when you court nymphs and buxom barflies, but _this..._?" She gestured helplessly at the open air.

Tired, Zeus ran a hand down his face, scratching at the stubble on his chin. "Sleeping with her is my biggest regret," he moaned.

"And it's _my_ greatest achievement!" Tyche's face scrunched up with sadistic delight. "Irene is so damn greedy!" She snickered, her laugh sounding like a squealing pig.

"You spend way too much time with Eris, my dear," Zeus groaned, glaring at the goddess.

"She's great in the sack," Tyche replied, closing her eyes. "Besides, I'm an equal opportunist. I have favorites, too, Daddy. And Irene is one of my favorites."

"You just insulted her a moment earlier..."

"She entertains me," Tyche supplied, opening her eyes to slits and showing devious golden irises.

With that, Tyche clapped her hands, her gold coin earrings glittering in the dreamy light of Olympus; Irene looked up, the mosaic of euphoria as she sat in a huge pile of money.

"Is that enough for Zeus' unpaid child support?" Tyche prompted, smirking as she shot a conspiratorial glance at her father.

"Yes...More than I dreamed possible!" Irene squeaked; Zeus groaned and shook his head in disgust.

"By the way, how's _Heather_ doing?" Tyche asked, smile growing.

Irene laughed, shamelessly throwing a bunch of dollar bills up in the air. "I'll buy Heather her own island that she can plant her ass on as soon as I kick her out at age eighteen!"

"Mother of the year, eh?" Tyche laughed, nudging an irritated Zeus with her elbow.

**June 2000-The Underworld**

"Taking notes from Edgar Allen Poe?" Theodore asked, not really expecting an answer.

He was strapped to a wooden board, iron manacles attached to his wrists and ankles. Far overhead, a pendulum swung back and forth; a white glint sparkled and shone every so often as if a blacksmith were grinding an ax blade against an invisible anvil. That was all Theodore could visibly look at.

Eris leaned over him, her brown hair falling around her deceptively beautiful face; a pair of emerald eyes sparkled. "I love depressing stories," Eris replied. "It lets me know that my children are thriving and well!"

"Like me!" Rio laughed from an unseen location.

"Should she really be seeing this?" Theodore asked, brows shooting towards his hairline.

"Oh Theo, the knight in shining armor! Baby kisser and maiden ravager!" Eris mocked.

"Maiden ravager!" Rio echoed.

"I can't say no to a beautiful woman..." Theodore sighed. "Is that such a crime?"

"You're trying to justify your actions?!" Eris' face tipped back and she laughed. "As Hades would say: 'Oh, Tartarus!' Are you sure you aren't Zeus the adulterer's son?!"

Eris walked away, still laughing. Then Theodore found Rio's tiny face looking into his, her eyes wide and curious with childlike innocence. A smile broke out on her face as she jabbed his nose with her index finger. "Maiden ravager!" she cheered.

"Rio, go find Hades for me, please?" Eris said, grabbing her daughter and pulling her off of Theodore. "I want a few minutes alone with our lovely captive."

A few moments passed, then there was the sound of skittering footsteps. As soon as Rio was gone, Eris climbed up onto the board and lay down next to Theodore, her head on his arm. She turned to face him, her eyebrows raised along with the edges of her mouth, making her look like a jovial joker.

"I'm gonna let you in on a little secret..." Eris whispered. "One even Hades doesn't know!"

Theodore didn't say anything, just stared at Eris with a cryptic expression.

"Rio's not human," she started, looking off in another direction, her lips puckered.

"Yes..."

"She's Hades' daughter!" Eris snickered, looking like she was sucking on a lemon. "With me!"

With a dreamy smile, Eris leaned in closer towards Theodore, placing her hand on his cheek and then tracing his lips with her index finger.

"What was the point in telling me about Rio's true heritage?"

"I have a proposition for you, fluff puff..." Eris deterred, eyes narrowed. "How about...I give you Cupid's immortality in exchange for a favor...?"

As he suppressed a groan and rolled his eyes, he asked,"What kind of favor?"

"Whatever comes to my vicious and deranged little mind," Eris quipped, giggling.

"No."

"You really don't have any other options..." Eris tilted her head slightly, shrugging her shoulders. "Do you know what Hades intends to do with you? Hmm?"

Theodore remained silent, his heartbeat thudding like a drum in his ears. His silence made Eris smile knowingly as she sat back up, taking a strand of hair and wrapping it around her index finger.

"I just thought of a _specific_ favor..." Rio smirked.

Tired of her antics, Theodore squeezed his eyes shut and audibly groaned. No matter how he responded, she was going to say whatever came to her mind. He wasn't getting close to figuring anything out, let alone retrieving his father's immortality.

"You heard about Hades' current main squeeze, didn't you, fluff puff?" Eris snickered. "The woman I look like is named Esperanza Carmen Burromuerto, Carmen to her extramarital affairs and intimate friends. I'll send you back to Earth: Go seduce her and make sure her husband catches the two of you in the act."

Opening his eyes again, Theodore took a better look at Eris' current glamour. Even with Eris' impish smile, Carmen looked like she was an incredibly attractive Latina. Thinking about whispering sweet nothings in her ear then taking her to bed made Theodore's heart beat pick up and start racing; he was salivating and sweating like a horny teenage boy. It'd been so long since he'd bedded a perfect 10 like Carmen...

"That's it?" Theodore gasped, then broke out in a wide, carnivorous smile. Maybe Eris suffered from the same petty jealousy that Hera did, he tried to reason. Carmen was an easier target to gain revenge on than Hades' official queen Persephone. At the same time, Theodore really didn't believe his own logic; he was thinking with the body part all the blood in his body was rushing to right now.

"That's it," Eris repeated. Eyes shining, she reached out and unlocked Theodore's manacles. Then she pulled up her shirt sleeve and removed a small, glowing blue ball of light. "Here it is...Cupid's immortality! Go snitch on Carmen, then this little angel is yours."

"How can I trust-?"

"I'm coming along to watch your little tryst," Eris replied with a big smirk. "Once you've completed your task, I'll hand it over."

Since Theodore had been given Cupid's ethereal looks, he'd been able to score with just about any woman he wanted. Lust was the worst and most ferocious of the seven deadlies for him: An eye-poppingly gorgeous woman was absolutely irresistible.

It'd been way too long since the last time he'd felt as sated as he did right now. With a contented sigh, he folded his arms behind his head and smiled, opening an eye and looking down at the gorgeous Carmen. She had her arms wrapped around him, a wide and satisfied smile on her deceptively angelic face. Her rich brown hair cascaded gracefully across the pillow behind her; it was silky smooth, as pleasurable for Theodore to run his fingers through as the silk sheets were for him to run his fingers across.

The deal with Eris was way too good to be true, but Theodore knew he would have accepted the offer to sleep with Carmen no matter what was at stake or how obvious it was that he was being played. Closing his eyes again, Theodore delighted in having Carmen's naked body pressed against his under the sheets, but while euphoria roared and raged in his veins, Theodore also felt prickling guilt. Cupid's face flashed through his mind's eye.

"Carmen?" he prompted softly, sweetly.

Making a small, contented noise, she opened her startling green eyes and smiled up at him. Next thing he knew, Carmen leaped up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him full on the lips; her favorite trademark was snaking her tongue into his mouth and rolling it around like a toilet brush in a dirty toilet bowl. Aggressively, she tackled him to the sheets again, the two of them rolling around and getting entangled in them as they passionately made out. This went on for several minutes before Carmen stopped, pulling her lips away. She still held him in a tight, intimate embrace.

"Ah...You're just what I needed!" she swooned.

"I'm sorry, but I..." Theodore's cheeks flushed as his body temperature rocketed.

"You need to go," Carmen sighed, somewhat remorseful. "I'd love to add your name and number to my little black book, though. Think we can meet like this again?"

"Of course!" Theodore said happily with an idiot's smile.

"_Maravilloso!_" she trilled as she carefully pulled away from Theodore.

Then she slid out from under the covers, making a display out of sauntering out of the room and down the hall, buck naked. All the while, Theodore just stared and drooled mindlessly...He vaguely wondered if she was one of Aphrodite's many mortal children...

Now he was caught in-between wanting to keep Carmen a sexy secret while finding another way to rescue his father, and upholding his end of the deal. Considering who Carmen was, Cupid would understand the delay and the temptation, right?

Just as the thought crossed his mind, Theodore noticed a nearby calendar..._May 1, 1992_...?

Maybe Carmen just had a lot of outdated junk, Theodore reasoned as dread bubbled in his chest. Just as the thought occurred to him, Eris' trilling laughter filled his mind. Suddenly, he was transported from the hotel bedroom back to the giant antetheater. Right back at square 1, Theodore was looking at the swaying pendulum, the shining blade. Only now, it was that much closer than it had been previously.

"Of course it's not that easy, Theo!" Eris trumpeted. "You just happened to fit a specific chore on my laundry list...Oh, the fun you'll have ten years from now with your paternity disputes!"

"You have so much power and you use it for something so...frivolous?!" Theodore cried, outraged as his cheeks turned bright red. He was now the absent father for two children now; he felt so exposed and exploited. Naked in the sense of being nude at a church congregation; the kind of nudity associated with feeling utterly embarrassed, humiliated, and degraded.

"No sympathy," Eris chided, clucking her tongue. "You jumped at this chance voluntarily, Renard. You should really be thanking me. Carmen's quite the catch, considering she's Himero's pride and joy..."

Suddenly, Rio re-appeared, dragging Hades by the hand. Theodore was still blushing intensely, working his jaw as he sulked in his own pity party for a few minutes. So much weighed on his mind, but he didn't really have much time for deep contemplation or consideration. Hades was looking down at him now, smiling wickedly.

"Every now and then, I eat human souls..." Hades mentioned casually, conversationally as he scratched his chin. "It tends to be the souls of the worst humanity has to offer, though, since, truly, the worst punishment is ceasing to exist entirely, yes?"

This new development made the blood in Theodore's veins freeze. A lump formed in his throat; his insides prickled with so many conflicting emotions, his own guilt voxed out by outright rage and disbelief at what Hades was suggesting. The sliver of Theodore that was a humanist wanted to break free and attack Hades, tearing him apart, and digging through his entrails in the faint hope that he could salvage and rescue the lost human souls. Though, a bigger part of Theodore feared for his own welfare...

When Hades' snake-like tongue squiggled out of his mouth, new and horrific implications followed with it.

"I've always wondered what a demi-god's soul tastes like..." the Underworld King mused, smirking.

"Are my sins really worth that kind of fate?" Theodore rasped, sweat beading and running down his forehead.

Hades chuckled softly. "I'm not heartless, boy. If you hadn't seen the silver apple, I'd leave you alone..."

"...Silver apple...?"

Sighing, Hades reached out, his hand phasing right through Theodore's body and extracting the soul as easily as a pez candy from a pez dispenser. All Theodore could do was scream as Hades licked his lips, his green pupils becoming slanted irises.

"Give me some!" Eris whined, placing her hand on Hades' shoulder.

"Do you know how disastrous that'd be?" Hades shot a venomous glare at her. "Harmonia would want my head!"

"At least tell me what he tastes like!" Eris chirped. "I'll bet he tastes like fried chicken..."

How was it that in such a short span of time Theodore had been within the kissing range of death_ twice_ now? Forlornly, he looked over at his motionless body; the blade was mere seconds away from decapitation. When Theodore turned back around, he watched as Hades started opening his jaw; the god was able to disconnect his jawbone, making his mouth far wider than it should have been able to open.

Strangely enough, the tunnel to Hades' gullet was far more intimidating than anything Theodore had witnessed in the Fields of Punishment. Licks of fire forked up and out of the god's throat, casting everything in a ghastly green glow. As Eris laughed in utter, sadistic glee, she looked more sinister than ever, stretching Carmen's face to an inhuman caricature.

Theodore whimpered as Hades released his soul, then the vacuum of his gullet started pulling Theodore in. Helplessly, Theodore tried to fight the suction and return to his body, but it was impossible. Closing his eyes, Theodore surrendered, falling into Hades' mouth, sliding down his throat, and then down into the chasm of his stomach.

A world that was a piece of paper drenched in black ink or oil, Theodore found himself floating in total darkness. Nothingness. Hades' stomach was a kind of limbo, one that Theodore had always associated Christianity's purgatory with. With his physical body gone and, by extension, his sense of touch, the only thing he could feel were the presence of the strings that attached his soul to his body. Those very strings were pulled taut, vibrating like the fragile strands of a spider web. At any moment, those strings would snap, erasing every last fiber of Theodore's being.

Desperate, Theodore wrapped his hands around the string, gasping and breathing heavily. Despite how hopeless his situation was, he absolutely refused to give up. Breathing as if he had lungs to fill, Theodore fixed his father's face in his mind. Even though Cupid had ignorantly tried to bridge his absence in Theodore's life with gifts, as Theodore had gotten to know and bond with him, Cupid had become the father he'd wanted to be. If anything, Cupid had proven that there was another side to the Olympians, that there were gods that could be benevolent, kind, and generous.

_ Why did he sacrifice so much for me...? _Theodore wondered as he started climbing up the strings. Somehow, he'd escape from Hades; he'd escape and run back to his father. No matter what, Theodore was going to express his gratitude to Cupid.

A few eternity-goggled minutes passed, Theodore making very slow, tedious progress. Misplaced hope kept him going; he ignored that with each time he climbed up another inch, the thread snapped just a little bit more. Brows furrowed, Theodore started saying prayers under his breath, calling out specifically to Cupid's allies. As the thread started fraying more and more, Theodore could swear he saw a phantom image of the Fates' scissors, ticking nanoseconds away from that ultimate, utterly defining-

The thread snapped.

Yet, Theodore didn't feel himself disappearing, he felt the opposite. All five senses returned to him as, unexpectedly, he watched pink and red muscle tissue re-form and grow, starting to encase his soul. Never before had he known just how relieving and exhilarating taking a simple breath would be; he reveled in his lungs filling and then deflating. Every bodily function he took for granted, Theodore felt awash with utter fascination and wonderment at experiencing it all with a hyper conscious awareness.

Theodore had been so caught up in himself that he was absolutely surprised when he found himself in a vast white expanse rather than pitch darkness. A human-shaped entity melted up from, presumably, the floor of the space; Theodore just stared, confused, as an eyeless manequin looked back at him.

"Forgive me, it's been a long time since I've tried to take a human form..." the mannequin laughed.

"Who are you...? Where...?" The questions just stopped. Theodore was tired of being utterly out of the loop. Everything involving the gods was confusing and unpredictable; he was done asking questions and trying to make sense of a world that just didn't operate on any kind of logic.

"I'm Aeon," the mysterious figure announced with a formal bow. "The god of time...Older than dirt!"

"You're time itself!" Theodore smiled wryly. "You're technically ageless!"

At that, Aeon laughed, transforming from a shapeless mannequin into a masculine form with an athlete's muscular figure. He stretched a few times, working his jaw, and flexing his biceps. All Theodore could do was stare, frowning and starting to get impatient. At least when he was stuck in Hades' stomach he had something constructive, albeit, demoralizing to do...Now, he was stuck watching an old fart of a god piddle around.

Wiggling his fingers above his head, Aeon smiled. "What do you think of Mt. Olympus?"

"I'll keep my reservations to myself," Theodore grunted, biting down on his lower lip.

"If you intended to become a god, I'd introduce you to my own Earthly daughter. Whether she wants to or not, she's taking my place as the goddess of time," Aeon muttered, speaking more to himself than Theodore. "She already resents me for naming her 'Aeon'. Goes by the name Kate instead..." Chuckling and shaking his head, the god smiled in a knowing, fatherly way. It was the same kind of smile that Cupid wore when talking about him, Theodore realized.

"You may become the next god of love," Aeon speculated, holding up a finger. "Zeus' reign is close to coming to an end."

"The silver apple!" Theodore gasped as Aeon smiled in a surly way. Then he tapped his chin, looking directly into Aeon's unnerving pupiless eyes. "Hades is trying to stage a coup! I'm guessing the silver apple is going to be used in a similar fashion as the gold one...?"

Grinning, Aeon shook his head. "You have Hades figured out, but I'm talking about something different altogether. The rise of a new generation, my boy! _Your _generation!"

"I could care less about Olympian politics!" Theodore growled.

"Says the young half-breed that has gotten himself deeply embroiled within the affairs of the second most powerful Olympian..." Aeon quipped through a tight-lipped smile.

"I have to save my father!"

"What did Cupid have to say about that?" Aeon tilted his head slightly, one brow raised as he folded his arms behind his back. "He willingly gave up his immortality to save you, Theodore. By Olympian laws, his immortality belongs to Hades. It's a crime punishable by death to try and take it back."

"I don't care about Olympian laws!" Theodore cried, feeling like an impudent six-year-old. "I'm not a citizen! I..." Suddenly, the grown man fell to his knees and bowed his head as what Aeon was implying hit him like a ton of bricks. _So...Hades was justified in devouring his soul...even if Theodore hadn't seen the silver apple...? He couldn't save Cupid..._

Tears started prickling behind Theodore's eyes; he sniffed as he tried to hold them back.

"Don't fret, my boy!" Gently, Aeon placed his hands on Theodore's broad shoulders. "You're still alive!"

Bitterly, Theodore shot a glare up at the god. "My father..."

"Your father is barely two decades older than you by human standards!" Aeon smiled. "Show him how you humans do it: Drench meaning into his life. Every minute, every day."

"...Aren't I dead?"

"No, I rescued you," Aeon replied. "I'm re-setting your clock, young Theodore. In exchange, you have a new mission: Steal the silver apple and stop Hades' coup."


	8. Episode 2, Part 4: Renardian Ethics

Episode 2, Part 4: Renardian Ethics

**June 2000-The Underworld**

"_...how am I supposed to do that?" Theodore prompted Aeon. _

"_Recall the story of Orpheus?" Aeon replied with a small smile. "Hades has a high admiration and appreciation of the arts, **especially** music..."_

Theodore was once again face to face with the intimidating Hades. Though, this time was much different; the god was watching him skeptically, a hunger and yearning reflected in his facial expression while Eris sat next to him, her reaction angry and impatient. Eris was the only observer of Theo's three-person audience that wanted nothing to do with Theodore's new deal with Hades.

A smile tugged at the edges of Theodore's mouth when he noticed Rio holding her mother's hand, looking at him with the same reverent patience that Hades was.

Nervously, Theodore turned his gaze towards the white violin in his hands. The surface was sleek and glossy, golden floral designs on the front and along the sides; this violin belonged to the Queen of the Underworld, Persephone. She'd picked up playing the violin from a desire to create music both for her own entertainment and her husband's; she'd been inspired by the tragedy of poor Orpheus.

Taking a deep breath, Theodore closed his eyes and tried to center himself. He'd learned how to play the violin when he had been with Sandy so many years ago. Oh, how her face would light up as he made the violin sing happy songs, a sighing promise of sweet nothings conveyed through chords and gentle coaxing of the strings...

Playing the violin had never really been one of Theodore's major strengths, but he had to try, right?

He raised the bow and let out a breath, swearing he'd be able to hear a pin drop in the room's new-found silence. Sandy's smiling face fixed in his mind, he leaned into the movement of the bow, making the tip kiss the strings with the featherlight touch of an angel's wings.

Slowly and gracefully, he remembered the positions and arrangement of Sandy's favorite piece, _Moonlight Sonata_. As he swept through the lilting, almost melancholy melody, Theodore tumbled in himself, inevitably remembering just how tender his musical interludes with Sandy had been:

She'd be sitting across from him, fingers clasped as tears collected at the edges of her eyes. Every time he played this very song, she'd burst into tears while wearing a ghost of a smile. Theodore never understood why, of all the songs he knew how to play, she chose this the most often, even after she told him her reason why.

"It reminds me of a recurring dream I had," Sandy had admitted. "A dream that was enough to scare me away from falling in love...I'd dream about seeing the world through the eyes of a young man. I felt his bitterness, his hatred, his yearning and desperation. He'd scream,'_Te amo_!' at a raven-haired girl as she turned and walked away. Never looking back...No matter how many times I experienced this particular dream, I always awoke in a cold sweat and crying my eyes out. I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest and stomped on. It felt like my soul was intertwined with his...I can't explain it without sounding crazy... "

Sandy sighed, lips trembling as a new wave of tears began. Tentatively, she reached up and ran her fingers through her thick, sandy blond hair. "I...The depression was so strong and so real that I didn't want to live. For a few short moments, I knew what it was like to live for love, just how horrible it'd be to give a piece of yourself, only to have it stripped away from you..."

Then she smiled at Theodore, a very warm and affectionate smile. "I never want to forget that dream," she went on. "It ruled my life for so long until _you_ came along, Theodore. You taught me that love isn't something to fear, but to embrace instead. That it's worth the gamble, the risk. I won't let it consume me, but empower me."

"Is that why you were so...mean to me?" Theodore asked. "Calling me a human walking stick...?"

"Yes," Sandy admitted, looking at him through her eyelashes. Then she clasped her hands. "I'm sorry...I know I can't erase the pain, but I wish I'd given you a chance sooner," she said breathily. "Your soul is a bright beacon in a dark, dark world."

"It really doesn't matter now anyway, though, does it?" Gently, Theodore reached over and placed his hand on her knee. "We're together now and that's what counts..."

"Theodore?"

"Yes, Sandy?"

"It does matter," she whispered, her eyes closed. "Sometimes, I imagine that you don't look like what you really do. That you're...a redhaired male model instead of a human walking stick." Sandy shook her head. "I like seeing you for who you really are."

"I_ am_ a redhaired male model..." Theodore protested, trembling slightly.

"No." Sandy smiled and chuckled softly. "You're my walking stick; an intelligent and caring man with a heart of gold. You don't have to be a looker, Theodore. You'll have the world at your feet because of your _virtue_..."

[[

"Why are you crying?" Hades asked softly.

Carefully, Theodore pulled the bow away and lowered the violin, the space between his chin and chest feeling as empty and hollowed out as his rib cage. That song dredged up intense guilt every time; his heart had sprouted wings and flown away in search of his one true love...

When he opened his eyes, he was met by Hades' sad, sympathetic expression.

"_...You'll have the world at your feet because of your virtue..."_

"Was my performance satisfactory?" Theodore asked around the lump now lodged in his throat. "Is it enough to trade for my father's immortality?"

"Yes," Hades replied without hesitation.

Breath caught in his throat, Theodore watched as Hades reached into the sleeve of his suit jacket and withdrew that familiar ball of pulsating blue light. On closer inspection, Theodore could see the shifting sands within, the ticking numbers.

"You'll _willingly_ give Theodore his father's immortality?!" Eris trumpeted, standing up and looking absolutely furious. "You could get music for a far more reasonable trade from Apollo! Think about your_ human_ son, Hades. What if he wants to become immortal?"

"You like the complex, dramatic solutions, don't you?" Hades sighed. "I was going to keep Cupid's immortality as a back-up if I couldn't appeal to Zeus, but there are always other ways."

"Music softens you up like wax under flame..." Eris groaned, narrowing her eyes.

Carefully, Theodore took Cupid's immortality and held it gently in his cupped hands. He remembered Aeon's instructions, to steal the apple when Hades was distracted, but something felt incredibly off to Theo.

"Will I be able to reinstall my father's immortality?" Theodore asked in a hushed voice, feeling like he was throwing the proverbial wrench into Aeon's plans.

"Of course!" Hades assured, reaching out and placing a fatherly hand on Theodore's shoulder. "I can only imagine how pleased and proud he'll be with you."

"Sap!" Eris coughed.

"You'll make a wonderful addition to Aphrodite's court..." Hades added, smiling.

Now, as he witnessed an entirely different dimension to Hades' personality, Theodore couldn't help being caught between fear and indecision. From what little he knew, both Hades and Aeon were imposing, untrustworthy figures. Common sense vouched that Theodore should take Aeon's side since Aeon was an older, far more powerful god. No matter who got bowled over by the other's sinister schemes in Olympian politics, Theodore only, truly held allegiance to himself, right?

Before he could stop himself, Theodore blurted: "Are you trying to overthrow Zeus?"

"What in the world gave you that idea?!" Hades scoffed in disbelief, frowning.

"The silver apple," Theodore sniffed. "What's the silver apple for?"

"Mind your manners, boy," Hades grunted. "I'm feeling merciful right now, but I can very well change my mind."

"What's the silver apple intended to do?" Theodore pressed, looking directly into Hades' eyes.

"Quit trying my patience, boy!" Hades hissed.

Heart hammering against his chest, Theodore wrapped his fingers tightly around Cupid's immortality. It was his stress ball; his true, sought-after prize in the midst of all of this utter madness. Blowing out a breath, Theo decided to take a risky gamble: "What do you know about Aeon...?"

The very mention of the name made Hades suck in a breath. From the way the Underworld King was reacting, an extreme epiphany occurred to Theodore.

"Aeon wants to steal the Underworld from Unkie Hades!" Rio piped up, making her mother's face turn white. "He thinks Unkie is a power-hungry douchebag!"

"As if Aeon's one to judge?!" Hades growled angrily, gnashing his teeth. "He's overstepping his boundaries again...Every so often, he feels envious towards Ananke and feels the need to interfere with politics. The man can't seem to understand the true facets and responsibility attached to his role!"

"The silver apple is a buffer against Aeon, isn't it?" Theodore gasped, eyes wide.

"Yes," Hades spat, glaring at Theodore with eyes like burning coals. "Aeon used to keep his distance, but he's started having remorse about the current state of the universe, especially Mt. Olympus. If not for Ananke, he'd destroy us all and recreate everything from scratch. He's pretty much doing so as we speak. Chipping away at us all, slowly but surely, like a human sculptor at a plaster mold..."

"Wouldn't it make more sense for Ananke-?"

"Ananke always understood the inherent consequences and nature of how her inhabitants would behave," Hades grunted. "She knows that she's the bigger picture. Something that Aeon seems to forget, considering he started viewing us gods and humans alike as his personal entertainment. He realizes his power and knows he can change things if he wants to..."

Letting out a breath, Theodore plopped down onto one of the couches, feeling the weight of concepts and variables he couldn't sway or control bearing down on him. He sank back into the couch cushions, longing to get away from Hades and his new set of daunting politics, just let the Underworld King do what needed to be done to ensure the future stability of the Underworld and Mt. Olympus. That was his and Zeus' responsibility.

Though part of Theodore was concerned, he could accept that he couldn't do anything. He could save his father now. That was all that mattered...Theo looked down into his hands at the pulsating ball again.

"Aeon sent you after the apple, didn't he?" Hades rounded on Theodore again.

"Yes," Theodore said simply, shoulders hunched. "He convinced me that you were going to use it to stage a coup against Zeus..."

At that, Hades barked a short, sharp laugh. Then the god shook his head, his face a collage of amusement, condescension, and disbelief.

"You poor, gullible kid!" he roared. "I have my own kingdom to attend to! I stay as far away from Olympus as I can; I hate it there! As if I'd want to waste time and energy trying to conquer that piteous cotton ball of delusional bureaucrats!"

"Hey!" Eris griped. "Those 'delusional bureaucrats' are my biggest source of fun and entertainment! They're worth that at least..."

"You're just upset because I'm lumping you in with them," Hades quipped back, smirking.

For some reason, Theodore felt like bursting into tears and rolling into the fetal position. Helplessly, he pulled Cupid's immortality closer towards him, gripping it like a security blanket.

"Get out of here!" Hades demanded, waving a dismissing hand.

As Theodore was about to protest, Hades held up a hand and clucked his tongue.

"Oh, Tartarus, you're a lucky one," Hades warned as he folded his hands behind his back and glared at Theodore in an elitist, condescending way. "Since you're an unsuspecting pawn in Aeon's plans, I'll be merciful and let you go. But, I'd highly suggest that you stay as far away from Olympian politics as possible, Theodore. Pray that we never cross paths again, even _when_ Thanatos brings you here for the last time..."

**June 2002-Delmont Summer Camp in Toronto, Ontario**

"_Olympian politics can be quite the headache..." Cupid chuckled softly, his cheeks a pair of bright red cherries. "I...I'll stop pressuring you to become a god, okay, Theo?"_

"_Thank you," Theodore said softly, smiling in utter relief. "I'm staying on Earth from now on. Permanently..."_

"_I'm coming to visit on the holidays," Cupid insisted. "Your grandma may want to tag along every so often, too...And she might bring Ares with her."_

"_Fine..." Theodore groaned. _

"_Another thing, Theodore..." Cupid raised a delicate finger, smiling. "Do you still intend to become a counselor?"_

"_No!" Theodore tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I've been thinking about that quite a bit since I left the Underworld...I'm going to become a doctor, Dad! That way, I can save people and keep them from Hades' grasp just a little bit longer than otherwise." The last bit elicited a very churlish, somewhat devious smile from the young man. _

Sandy had once mentioned that she was a Canadian immigrant, and that one day she wanted to return to her hometown of Toronto.

Toronto. For the last two years, Theodore had felt compelled to come here, driven by yearning and insatiable curiosity. Every night, he wondered who his daughter was, what she looked like, how she was doing, what her hopes for the future were. She'd be at least ten years old now...

Sighing, Theodore steeled himself. This summer, he was taking a break from his rigorous medical school classes and had found a part-time job as a summer camp counselor. For the millionth time, he watched the herd of ten-to-fourteen-year-olds scramble into the cafeteria, yelling, cheering, and talking amongst themselves. The other counselors smiled, announcing to the kiddies what the other day activities would be; Theodore was the only one that was stoic and silent.

There was no little girl named Gwen in this group. But, if she were here, would she have her mother's hair, her dark eyes, or his red hair? Silently, and selfishly, Theodore wore a reserved smile hoping that she'd inherited his red hair and Cupid's glamour. That way, she'd never be the butt of cruel jokes and taunting that he'd suffered through; she'd be a beautiful butterfly instead of an awkward, unseemly walking stick...

Just as the thought crossed Theodore's mind, he noticed something off about the cafeteria of happy, chattering pre-teens. His stomach was twisting in knots, horrible memories rolling like film through his mind's eye. Pupils shrinking, he noticed a group of skinny, fashionable girls circling another girl, jeering and teasing. None of the other counselors noticed; they were all busy trying to get some dumb kid to stop sticking peas up her nose on some ridiculous dare.

Something snapped in Theodore as he stomped over. He seemed to be hyper-aware, hearing every taunt they launched at her: _fat-ass, Porky, loser..._

"_Hey, it's the human walking stick!" Sandy jeered at Theodore as he crouched down the hall, hiding behind his books...In the locker room, Theodore avoided taking showers, since the last few times, another boy made a show out of pointing at his "pecker" and making snide comments about the size...In middle school, a dark haired boy in glasses beat up Theodore every day and stole his lunch money until he finally summoned the courage to tell a teacher...It's the human preying mantis!...It's the stick figure with a tiny dick!...Keep up! Do you have any hand-eye coordination, you freak?!...Only a weirdo would know something that obscure..._

So many bullies' faces taped to his eyelids, Theodore was living in the past for a brief few seconds. He clenched his fists, anger swimming and bubbling. "Shut up," he said in a low, brutal growl.

All four girls looked up at him with fear and shock. The three that had been picking on the other girl backed away, seeming to shrink in the presence of Theodore's age and authority. Taking a deep breath, Theodore made himself return to the present and calm down. "I'll make sure your parents know exactly what you were doing just now," he threatened, eyes steely. "For now, go sit somewhere else. Your punishment is that you don't get to swim today and you have to help clean up the pool _until_ your parents come to pick you up."

All three girls glared, muttering insincere apologies followed by long strings of cuss words as they turned and walked away. Now Theodore was getting fixed by an indignant glare from the girl that had been getting teased. She had short dark hair and black eyes, wore a pink T-shirt, and clutched at a cheap wallet covered with sequins; she was a bit chubby, too.

"They'll never let me in their group now!" she cried as tears collected at the edges of her eyes. "Thanks to you, you big meanie!"

"They were bullying you!" Theodore protested. "Those girls were calling you such mean, rotten names..."

"Words don't hurt!" the girl said stubbornly, chewing on her bottom lip. "My mom told me that that's how the popular kids behave! I just have to put up with it. If I put up with it long enough, they'd accept me...maybe..." Her eyes trailed towards the floor and from the way she furrowed her brows, Theodore knew she didn't believe in her mom's advice.

"That's a load of crap," Theodore replied bluntly. "Words_ do_ hurt. They chip away at your emotional well-being and self-esteem."

"You ruined my chances of getting accepted!" the girl cried.

"What's so great about those girls?" Theodore grilled. "Why are you so determined to be part of their inner circle that you'd willingly degrade yourself?"  
>"They're cool. Everybody likes them. If I were one of them, everyone would like <em>me<em>."

Blowing out a breath, Theodore started tapping his knee as he remembered that fateful night back in 1991, when he'd gotten tired of his drudgery at the bottom of the social ladder. His solution had been fairytale magic: Cupid gave him looks and charisma, the two tools that had, pretty much, given Theodore everything he wanted and needed. He could tell the young girl the sentimental "believe in yourself" and "rise above the crowd" spiel, but he didn't really understand or believe in the merits of such tripe himself.

Of course she needed to stand up for herself, but after that, she needed something else to help her continue to do so. Self-confidence came with feeling like you had some sort of personal strength or advantage; for Theodore, that was his glamour, his spellcasting mask.

What could he tell this young girl? What was the equivalent of his father's gifts that he could give to her...?

"What makes them cool?" Theodore asked with a half-smile.

"They're fashionable," she replied, confused.

"How do you know that's the case?" Theodore countered, looking into the young girl's eyes.

"They say so..."

"Think about it: Those girls labeled themselves cool and fashionable," he reasoned. "It's a label, a label that can be peeled off just as easily as it was applied."

Smiling, Theodore watched as the girl mulled things over, the gears whirring in her brain. After a full minute, her eyes widened with an epiphany. "Mom doesn't get called names by her friends!" Her brows furrowed. "_She_ tells _them_ what to do. How things work..."

"There's one girl that calls all the shots, isn't there?" Theodore followed.

"Yeah, Hope," the girl conceded. "Rachel and Lily dress and act like she does. If she likes something, they do, too. Just like Mom and her friends..." Following this logic, she smirked. "If I took Hope's place, I'd be in charge. I'd be like Mom. It wouldn't be me getting rejected, because _I'd_ be the one calling the shots!"

"How will you take over their group?" Theodore asked, raising an eyebrow.

This is where the girl deflated, retreating back to her original, helpless state. Gritting his teeth, Theodore remembered when he'd been in her place.

"Figure out their weaknesses," Theodore whispered, regressing to his fifteen-year-old self. "What makes them tick. If Lily hates bugs, cover her with bugs. If Hope has a crush on another boy, flirt with that boy. Exploit their weaknesses and lever yourself. They'll fear you."

"...Hope has a diary," the girl said, her eyes shining with realization. "I know where she hides both it and the key..."

"Find that diary," Theodore encouraged. "Read it. Watch what Hope does then..."

"I never even thought about doing that!" she reveled.

"Hope will be kissing your feet," Theodore agreed, eyes shining as he smiled sinisterly.

Glee erupted in the pit of his stomach. Right now, he was living vicariously through this young girl, delighting in the notion that she'd triumph over her harassers, a feat that he'd never been able to pull off. He'd charmed his opposition; he knew how people could bend like bamboo, how they could molded with sweet, gentle words or brutal blackmail.

Part of Theodore knew how perverse and wrong this approach was. Though, really, these girls deserved a taste of their own medicine, right? Some people deserved to have evil inflicted upon them. Besides, Theodore himself wasn't an entirely rotten apple; he imagined that once this young girl took command, she'd be a better leader than Hope, right?

"You're a genius, Mister!" the little girl gushed.

"If you ever need any other advice, I'm here," he acknowledged, hearing a slight waver in his voice now. "You can call me Theodore."

"My name's Heather," she said, her eyes glowing with an all-too-familiar malice.

**February 2007-Kate Litwick's Apartment in New York City**

"...Man, where did you learn to do _that_?!" the brunette crowed, her blue eyes shining.

"So...you're a satisfied customer?" Theodore smiled in a cat-like way, rolling his shoulders.

Sighing contentedly, the young woman took a few steps back then tumbled into bed, reaching for Theodore's arms and wrapping them around her lithe, slender body. The two cuddled up under the tangle of sheets and blankets, the woman a warm and refreshing candle light.

Pulling her closer, Theodore kissed her cheek. His heart was beating slow and steady. When was the last time he'd felt such timid, sparking attraction?

When she kissed him back, realization hit Theodore like a crashing wave: He was falling in love. For the second time in his life, he was getting to experience that sweetness, those wonderful moments akin to a dark red rose unfurling its' petals. Gently, the new meaning in Theodore's life reached up overhead at the light switch and tugged it, drowning the room in darkness.

"Kate Renard," Theodore whispered.

"Theodore _Litwick_," she replied, giggling.

Sleep came very easily anymore. Because of Kate, Theodore felt like an entirely new man. When he looked into her eyes, he felt like his past was a million miles away. With her, there were no ghost desires to return to Sandy, no keening or guilt for past transgressions, only a bright and wonderful future with marriage and-

"Welcome back, Theodore!" Aeon crooned in a sing-song voice.

All of a sudden, Theodore found himself in Aeon's stark and blinding white twilight zone. Gasping, he realized he was naked; feebly, he tried to cover his privates while the time god just stared at him, utterly bemused, as he folded his arms. Next to Aeon stood Kate, looking guilty as her hair fell in her face and she looked down at her feet.

"What...What's going on?" Theodore asked, his voice cracking.

"This is the daughter I told you about so long ago!" Aeon cackled, placing an arm around her shoulders.

Unnerved, Theodore noticed Kate clenching her fists, the way she corkscrewed her lip.

"You were just thinking about marriage, weren't you, Theo, my boy?" Aeon said grandly, smiling wide. "Well, you have my blessing!" Then he gestured at his daughter. "Aeon, Jr.?"

Silently, Kate lowered her head that much more, her face hidden behind a curtain of hair now. The skin on her right and left shoulders started shifting and bubbling like the surface of boiling water; she started to writhe, moaning.

Horrorstruck, Theodore could only watch as his naked lover transformed: A bull's head sprouted from her right shoulder and a lion's from her left. A tail snapped idly behind her, waving casually through the air.

"Kate...?" Theodore called, reaching out to her with shaking fingers. "Katy...?"

She made a small, incomprehensible sound as she stepped forward. Then she took another step, and another, slowly making her way towards Theodore. The closer she was, the more Theodore noticed that her human side had, more or less, completely shut down; her head drooped and flopped around lazily like a dead daisy's. Any life still present in Kate was expressed in the bull snorting and the lion roaring impatiently.

For the past few minutes, Theodore had been frozen in utter shock, staring with wide eyes and gaping fish lips. His hand was shaking violently as instinct kicked in. Every part of him was begging to turn and run, especially now that Kate was close enough that she was reaching out towards him; the bull's and lion's eyes gleamed in hungry anticipation.

Screaming, Theodore turned and started to run. Even though he had nowhere to go in a blank white void, he ran anyway, going faster and faster as his red hair started to flutter around his face. Briefly, he shot a look over his shoulder; Kate was so close, her strides becoming faster as her human legs transformed into the chunkier, more musclebound equivalent of a bull's.

Helplessly, Theodore tried to pour on more speed, but he knew it was helpless when he felt vibrations beneath his feet.

Next thing he knew, Theodore fell, hitting the ground with a rough 'oof.' He was pinned by a pair of lion paws, the claws sinking into his skin. Gasping, Theodore could feel the air leaking out of his lungs in a steady stream as two pairs of ferocious, bloodthirsty eyes looked down at him. Desperately, he wanted to scream, but that was pretty much impossible when he felt like he could barely breathe...

Kate lifted her human head, the hair falling away from her face. Panting, she looked at him with regretful eyes, her lips trembling.

"What...What...?" Theodore gaped.

"He wants a new world-egg," she explained in a hushed voice. "He wants us to mate and create a new world-egg..."

There were tears in her eyes, sliding down her face.

"If that happens, it means the end of the current universe as we know it," Kate went on in a rush, her voice almost drowned out by the noises her other two animal heads were making.

Theodore swallowed, wishing he could reach up and wipe the tears away from her eyes. Sorrow swelled and rose in his chest, spilling over him as he swallowed heavily. It was such a strange sensation to be caught up in a net of overwhelming fear and irrational adoration all at the same time.

"I love you..." he admitted, despite how inappropriate it was for him to say that right now.

"You have to slay me, Theodore!" Kate squawked, her eyes a pair of watery marbles now. "Kill me!"

"No!" Theodore screamed.

"You have to!" she screamed back.

"I won't do it!" Theodore shrieked. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me...I'm not messing up again! Without you, I-"

"I was your newest replacement for Sandy!" Kate howled back, the bull and lion heads snarling and angry; the lion's teeth were two rows of sharp razors.

"No..." Theodore whispered, shaking his head. "No..."

"Do you really know anything about me?" Kate's claws dug into his wrists as she leaned in closer. Their faces were barely inches apart, her blue eyes the points of daggers as her gaze dug into his soul, dragging razor blades through him.

"I know _everything_," he gasped.

"You know _nothing_," she whispered. "What's my favorite color? My favorite song...?"

"Mauve..._Moonlight Sonata_..."

"Yellow. And I _hate_ classical music," Kate snarled back.

With that last response, her eyes snapped shut and her human head fell forward and limp again. Now Theodore was eye to eye with the lion, his frightened and tear-stained face reflected in the depths of those golden eyes. With a struggling breath, Theodore discarded his humanity for the current instant. Adrenaline flushed through his veins as he, somehow, yanked his arms out from Kate's pin.

Then he reached up past the lion's head, towards Kate's human one. He wrapped both hands around her neck and started squeezing; the lion turned and chomped into his arm, the teeth sinking into his flesh and sending sharp prickles of pain all throughout his body. Gasping, Theodore ignored it and squeezed harder.

Next, the bull head bit into Theodore's other arm, the bite jarring, but nowhere near as painful as the lion's. A few seconds passed; Kate's eyes flew open, the pupils small pinpricks. Fresh tears leaked from her eyes and ran down her face as the light started fading. As Theodore persisted in his grisly task, the lion and bull heads, along with the tail, disappeared.

Releasing Kate, Theodore screamed as her body fell forward and, quickly, he wrapped his arms around her, cradling her in his embrace. Hot tears spilled from his eyes and down his face. The bright white started to fade, the last vision Theodore seeing being Aeon's disgruntled and disapproving face.

For the next few hours, Theodore held Kate close to him under the covers, clinging to her like a life raft. When the sun was shining in through the window, Thanatos appeared, his expression sympathetic. Kate's soul stepped up and out of her body, standing next to the god of death and smiling sadly at Theodore.

"I'm finally free from Aeon..." she sighed happily, smiling. "You saved Mt. Olympus, Theodore."

Thanatos grunted in agreement, nodding silently.

_...At what cost?_ Theodore thought bitterly as a tear slid down his face, cold and wet.

**December 2007-Hephaestus' Forge**

"My repairs ought to have fixed most of the major damage done to your body, Theodore," Hephaestus grunted, wiping his forehead with the back of his gauntlet.

Theodore took a deep, rattling breath; he could feel the newly installed machinery, the click and whir of every last gear. Of course Theodore was eternally grateful to the blacksmith god for rescuing him from the very brink of death, but all he could think about was the unfortunate fate that had befallen the young, blond teenage Total Drama intern.

Closing his eyes, Theodore could remember the scene with far too vivid clarity:

Dark-robed and grim-looking Thanatos looked down at Theodore, his skeletal hand extended. The god of death was getting irritable and impatient; he easily ignored the bloodied and torn open corpse of the intern while it was all that Theodore could look at. The winged and wraith-like Keres surrounded the young boy, squabbling amongst themselves as to who would get to take the first bite of his body.

Next to Thanatos stood the intern's soul, fearful and nervous as he tried to come to terms with the fact that he was now dead.

"Come on, Theodore!" Thanatos grumbled. "I have a schedule to keep."

Barely able to breathe, Theodore looked down at his own mangled body now. A huge pool of blood was spilling and growing beneath him; he could feel his heart pumping more and more slowly with each passing moment. Theodore was barely holding on to his physical body, a hangnail away from death.

"Chris!" Theodore gurgled. "Chris is responsible for this..."

"Yeah, McClain's responsible for most of my jobs this month," Thanatos sighed. "Want me to put your name on the petition going around? Bunch of souls in the Underworld are trying to get Nemesis to put a curse on him or something..."

That response made Theodore's eyes widen and his blood boil. Rage overtook him, such an intense, blinding rage unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. Chris was the key that unlocked the curse that Nemesis had placed on him seven years ago.

Theodore let out a long and keening primal scream; he choked on his own blood shortly afterward, tumbling into unconsciousness. The entire time he'd been floating around in his own mind, all Theodore could think about was the young intern, how his life had been cut short by the callous and careless actions of his employer Chris McClain. How Theodore himself had almost been brought to his own death by those very same actions...

Theodore moaned as he opened his eyes again. Rage flooded through his remaining veins, escalating as he stared at his chest and his arm, met by the gleam of metal and circuitry. Angry tears squiggled out of the grown man's eyes and chased down his cheeks as he flexed his fingers, mournfully remembering the flesh and the knuckles, Sandy's tiny fingers interlocking through the gaps between his.

"I'm hideous..." Theodore groaned.

"Yup..." Hephaestus pulled at the end of his glove, then turned away and wandered into the depths of his forge. Weary, Theodore watched the muscular god as he started prepping a long sheet of metal, the way his muscles rippled and strained with the effort-

"Theodore!" Cupid appeared at Theodore's elbow, his concerned face blocking Hephaestus and Theodore's view of the rest of the forge.

Theodore grunted, grimacing as he started gnashing his teeth.

"I'm so glad you're alright, Theodore," Cupid sighed, leaning in and gently hugging his son.

"I'm not alright," Theodore grunted.

"You're _alive_!" Cupid protested. " You recently saved Mt. Olympus from Aeon. You're a year away from becoming a doctor. You had a high-ranking job as an executive producer. You have the mortal world at your feet-"

"I'm not alright!" Theodore howled, pushing his father away. Breathing hard and heavily, Theodore could feel the strain between his new mechanical parts and his organic body. "I'll never be okay again!"

Cupid looked back at him worriedly. "Is there anything-"

"I was so close to turning my life around!" Theodore yelped. "I was going to get married and stay loyal to a woman for once in my pitiful life...I was going to save up money to give to my children for college and pay my own bills..."

"You can still-"

"All I want is to be a better human being..." Theodore panted, breaking out in a sweat. "But, every time I've tried to atone for my sins, I've failed. There's only one way I can redeem myself...only one way I can..."

"...what's that?" Cupid asked nervously, eyes wide and fearful.

"I have to _kill_ Chris McClain, of course!" Theodore crowed, breaking out in a manic smile. "From now on, every waking moment, everything I do will be towards the cause of eliminating that scourge from the Earth! I'm going to cripple him. I'll crush him! I'll _destroy_ him...!"

By now, Theodore had lapsed into a manic episode, digressing off on a long, brutal tirade as he gestured and screamed. Only Cupid was deeply scarred and worried, watching closely as a dark black mark appeared on Theodore's cheek: As if burned there by a branding iron there was now a silhouette of Nemesis' winged form, a pulsating green light surrounding it...


End file.
